


Flames and flowers

by Nival_Vixen



Series: Chaos-verse [5]
Category: Sky High (2005)
Genre: Complete, F/M, Heroes to Villains, World Domination, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 21:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 38,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7730155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/pseuds/Nival_Vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of unrelated and unconnected stories featuring Layla and Warren as Poison and Fire, the evil duo Chaos.</p><p>(Companion to the stories within Chaos-verse.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Triumph / Flames and flowers

**Triumph**

She stood on the platform above him, watching as the world died in a mix of poison and flames. He never believed that she could ever be this evil, to watch as the men, women, and animals - the very ones she once swore to protect with her life - died before her, screaming and begging for mercy, for death, for god to save them. Only one plea would come true, and she just watched as their deaths and suffering were drawn out for her own amusement.

One of the victims called out to him, and with an incredulous look at her stupidity, Warren increased the intensity of the flames, twisting them around her tighter. Her screams followed his fiery ascent up to the platform to stand beside Layla. He never believed that he would end up here, standing beside her as the world died, but now that he was here, Warren couldn't imagine being anywhere else. He grinned at the sight of her, clad in a leafy green outfit that he knew could both withstand and crumble under his flames, depending on their moods. He had the feeling that Layla would be all too happy to let him disintegrate her outfit later. For now, they had to ensure that their chosen victims wouldn't escape, so they both stood above the dying, evil triumphing for the first time in far too long.

...

**Flames and flowers**

Warren rolled over, a small frown on his face when he realised that Layla wasn't lying next to him anymore. He blinked his eyes open a few times, lifting his head to look for her when he deemed that she hadn't simply rolled off the bed or something. As he did his usual stretch, scratch, and yawn, Warren breathed in deeply through his nose, his yawn turning to a satisfied smirk. The whole room smelled of burning flowers, and it was a scent that he was fast becoming addicted to.

He saw that Layla was standing in front of the window, completely naked and unashamed of the fact. Getting out of bed, Warren moved to join her, his arms wrapping around her waist, bringing her body closer to his own naked one as he kissed the join of her neck and shoulder. She smelled of earth and sex, the scent stirring inside of him, a response to the memories of the night before.

"You okay, hippie?" he murmured.

"Perfect," she replied, and in the reflection of the glass he could see her smile. "Isn't it beautiful?" Layla breathed in awe, nodding to the world displayed before them.

Warren followed her gaze easily, seeing the bloom of flowers in their front garden. Beyond the garden and the small fence, the city of Maxville was burning. Buildings that weren't being attacked by flames were blocked and trapped by trees and vines of all kinds. He grinned at the sight; the city would be theirs by daybreak.

"It is beautiful," he agreed quietly, his lips lingering on her skin as his hands began to slide along her body.

Layla hummed in appreciated and turned around in his arms with a smile. She kissed him hungrily, biting at his bottom lip sharply as her vines encircled their feet.

"It's going to be all ours, Warren. The whole world, only ours," she said, her bright demeanour only enhanced by the look in her eyes.

"Only ours," he agreed with a nod.

Kissing her again, he led her back to their bed, their fingers and legs entwining together.

The world could wait a few more hours.

...

The end.


	2. A Valentine's worth remembering

Warren finished sweeping up the last of the confetti from the floor with an annoyed sigh. He'd been working all night, despite requesting the night off weeks ago. Mrs. Woo had agreed to his request, yet only half an hour before his date, he'd been called in to work. Mrs. Woo had apologised profusely, of course, but it hadn't exactly made up for the fact that he'd had to cancel his plans. The weather was awful for this time of year, and yet the  _Paper Lantern_  had been overflowing with loving couples and  _happiness_. It was enough to make him feel sick.

A knock on the window startled him, the broom dropping to the floor with a loud crash that was multiplied by the crash of thunder outside. He looked over to see Layla standing there, getting drenched in the pouring rain.

"Going to let me in?" she asked with a smile, moving closer to the door under the meagre amount of cover the overhanging roof provided.

"What are you doing here, hippie?" Warren muttered, crossing the room quickly to open the door. "And why are you wearing a bright yellow raincoat?"

She stepped inside quickly, shrugging off the coat and taking off the matching hat.

"Well, in case you haven't seen, it's pouring cats and dogs out there... Anyway, it's Valentine's Day, and it's tradition to see one's boyfriend on this auspicious day," she said brightly.

"Technically, it's Valentine's night, and it's nearly midnight, so the day's almost over," Warren replied. "You're dripping everywhere," he muttered, taking her wrist and pulling her into the restaurant, shutting the door behind her.

"Aw, you sound like you don't want me to kiss you," Layla said with a pout.

"Don't.  _Pout_ ," Warren growled.

Ignoring him, she pouted some more until her face lit up in a mischievous smile. Layla closed the distance between them, her arms winding around his neck as she kissed him eagerly. Warren couldn't stay annoyed with her for long, especially not when her tongue flicked against his, and her body pressed up against his, both hotter than any flame he could conjure. He raised his eyebrows as she undid his apron, pulling it off quickly, her hands sliding under his shirt immediately. Warren yelped at the cold contact of her skin, moving away from her as fast as possible.

"Oh, don't be a baby. Get back here, I'm freezing," Layla said, moving towards him. "I had to sneak out of a two-storey house, walk to the bus stop, endure the drunks wolf-whistling at me, and then it took me two buses and thirty minutes of walking to get down here. The least you could do is warm me up!"

Warren shook his head, moving further away with each step she took forward.

"Please, Warren?" she asked, her voice taking on that breathy tone that he usually couldn't resist.

He shook his head again, still backing up. The back of his knees hit the seat in the booth and he fell back with a yelp. Before Warren had time to move, Layla moved on top of him, laughing at his expression. She trailed her hands down his shirt, slipping them underneath with a grin. He jerked at the cold sensation, his eyes screwed shut tightly.

"Any chance you'll stop acting terrified of my fingers?"

"They're cold, hippie. You know I don't like cold things," he muttered.

"Poor Warren," she murmured, nipping at his bottom lip. "Why don't you just warm me up so I won't be cold anymore?"

"Well, I can't do it when I'm under you, can I?"

"Afraid of the challenge?" Layla asked with a laugh, moving her lips to his ear.

"Fuck," he groaned as she bit on his lobe.

His body temperature began to rise considerably, and his hands were close to bursting into flames, yet they were both fully clothed and _gods, this was_ _ **embarrassing**_.

"There you go. Look at that, I'm all toasty and warm now," Layla said brightly, sitting up and moving off his body to stand up.

"Layla, get back here,  _right now_."

She laughed, shaking her head, loose ringlets flying around her face.

"You really got all dolled up, didn't you?" Warren asked, sitting up and actually seeing her outfit properly.

She was wearing a green and red dress, long strips of material intersecting over her body, tightening at the bodice and black laces tying as a corset.

"Well, I  **was** meant to go out with my boyfriend for Valentine's Day, so I wanted to look really damn kissable," she replied, smirking.

"You definitely do look kissable," he said, grinning back at her.

"Well, then?" Layla asked, splaying her arms wide. "Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to kiss me?"

Warren was up so quickly that she almost missed his motion, but she didn't have time to process it as his lips descended on hers, his hands resting on her hips, burning through the thin material of her dress.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Warren," she murmured, smiling against his lips. "Or night."

"I think you mean the day after Valentine's Day. It's past midnight now, hippie."

"You mean I got dressed up for nothing?"

Warren shook his head, his fingertips trailing down her dress. "Not for nothing. Although, I have to admit, I feel underdressed," he said, glancing down to his singlet and grease-covered work pants.

"You look fine. Better than I did last year, at least," Layla said, grinning.

"What, you mean when you burst in here, scared the daylights out of Mrs. Woo and covered the place in vines? Yeah, I look like I'm ready for Homecoming compared to you then," Warren said with a smirk.

"Charming, really."

"Hey, you said it, not me."

"I know. At least I got to watch you roast Will a few days later in Save the Citizen. That was fun," she admitted, grinning.

"Yeah, it was. In front of the school, no less. Best day ever, in my opinion."

"You're just saying that because we fucked in the Detention Room afterwards."

"Well, that certainly made it memorable," he added with a grin, pulling her body tighter against his.

"Of course. Screwing you in Maxville Penitentiary was another memorable day," Layla muttered, grinding her hips against his.

"Hey, if they were stupid enough to let us fuck in a room without suppressers, then it's their own fault we escaped," Warren chuckled, his teeth biting at the nape of her neck.

"Burning the place to the ground was probably a touch overdramatic though."

"I still maintain  **that** was your fault," he replied, his hands moving up to cup her breasts firmly.

"I suppose using one of my vines to hold you against me might have had something to do with it," she replied, ending with a moan as he rubbed against her.

" _Might have_?" he echoed, a growl in his throat. "You made me cum so hard I brought a fucking  _building_ down."

She laughed breathily, her fingers moving to untie the bodice on her dress. "Want to see if we can do it again? I don't know about you, but I'm pretty pissed at Mrs. Woo for making us miss our date. I had a whole boat trip planned and everything. I was going to fuck you until the ocean itself burned," Layla murmured, grounding her hips down against him wantonly.

"I like the sound of that. We both like this restaurant though, so is there any place else you want to blow up?" he asked, his tongue flicking down her chest to take her nipple into his mouth.

It took her a long moment to compose herself enough to answer. "Well, there is the Mayor's house. The bastard doesn't stop staring at my breasts when I'm talking to him, and I swear he tried to pinch my butt the other day," she glowered.

A possessive growl and harsh fingers on her hips were the only response she received.

"Think you're up for it?" Layla asked, her dress dropping to pool around her ankles.

Warren smirked at her when he saw that she was completely naked. He nodded as he pulled her against his body.

"Now  _you're_ the one overdressed," she murmured, pulling his shirt over his head and unbuckling his belt swiftly.

He pushed his pants down over his hips, his briefs moving down in the same motion. Warren pulled her to him, his cock hard and nestled against her. Layla smiled at him, that sexy infuriating smile that made him want to fuck her even more. Warren thrust into her, her resounding gasp making him grin.

"Never fails to turn you on, does it?" he murmured, his hands travelling over her body.

She murmured a soft agreement, moving her hips against his. Warren grabbed her hips tightly, pulling her closer as his hands burned. Layla shivered at the pain, rocking against him faster. He groaned at the feeling, his lips capturing hers quickly. Warren moved her back against the seat, pinning her wrists with one hand while the other held her in place.

"Warren? Wait a minute," Layla murmured between kisses.

"What?" he asked, his lips hot against her neck.

"You're making me very, very hot, and we're going to melt the seat if we don't move soon."

"Don't worry, I'll keep it under control," Warren said, chuckling.

"Like you did in the forest?"

"Again, not my fault," he growled.

She laughed against his shoulder, bucking her hips slightly. Warren shook his head and kept her pinned down where she was with his body weight. He moved one of her legs slightly, the table shrinking down to a seed to get out of their way. Layla grinned up at him, pulling him down to kiss once more. He kissed her eagerly, his lips curving into a grin as they continued their rhythm. As he began to move faster, a now-familiar sensation began to build up inside of him. His body started to burn, his hands flaming against her skin. Layla moaned, her back arching against him.

"Can you handle it?" she murmured, flicking her tongue against his lips.

" _Always_ ," he replied softly, the pressure and heat intensifying.

A vine wrapped around their wrists, twining its' way down their arms as Layla moaned and writhed against him wantonly.

Warren forced himself to keep his eyes open as the flames began to consume and devour him. He stared into Layla's eyes, and as she began to orgasm, clenching around him tightly, Warren pictured the Mayor's house. He thought of it on fire, burning, flames licking at the rooms and furniture, setting everything inside ablaze. In his mind, Warren watched as it burned, turning the structure into nothing but soot-covered bricks.

As he imagined it, so it started. The fire didn't let out any smoke, controlled as it was in his mind, and no alarms were set off to warn the Mayor of the danger. Even if they had gone off, the Mayor wouldn't have been able to move anyway, as a thick rope of vine was wrapped around his body to keep him secured to the bed. The Mayor's wife had learned of her husband's cheating ways, and had decided to go to her mother's home in Westville until she forgave him, so he was the only one in the house.

Just as the final flame burned the Mayor's house down, Warren orgasmed hard, buried deep inside Layla as she came for the second time, thorns from her vine piercing their skin. She smiled at him contentedly, the vines disappearing as the seed began to grow into a table once more. He kissed her, his arm wrapping around Layla's shoulders as she sat up, her own arms wrapped around his waist.

"That was good," she murmured, grinning at him. "Want to do it again?"

"Sure. Just not here," he added, raising his eyebrow slightly. "This was as uncomfortable as I want to be when fucking you."

"So no sex on the edge of Sky High again?"

"I didn't say  _that_ ," Warren muttered, kissing her as he stood and pulled his pants on again.

Laughing, Layla sat up, taking her offered dress, pulling it up over her hips before retying the corset. She watched him as he zipped his pants and buckled his belt, his body covered with a slight sheen of sweat. Warren smirked over at her as he pulled his shirt over his head. By the time the material was on him properly, Layla was standing directly in front of him, biting her lip as she looked at him with darkened eyes.

"All right there, hippie?" he asked, his hands resting on her hips.

"Perfect," she replied with a quick grin. "Mind if I come home with you?"

"Of course not. Mum's off on a business trip for the Mayor... You wouldn't have anything to do with that, would you?"

Layla smirked briefly. "Come on, the next bus isn't too far away."

Warren grabbed his apron, going to the back locker area to put it away and grab his bag. He was back in the restaurant in moments, Layla wearing her bright yellow raincoat and hat.

"I'm going to buy you a black raincoat one day. You wearing that makes me feel like a cradle robber," he muttered.

She just laughed at his expression, stepping out of the warm restaurant and into the cold night. He sighed and followed her, locking the door behind them. Layla opened an umbrella, holding it above them so Warren wouldn't get wet or cold. He kept his arm around her waist to stay under the umbrella and as far away from the rain as possible.

As they walked to the bus stop together, the wailing of a fire truck and ambulance could be heard in the distance.

...

The end.


	3. Grains of sand

Hourglass was smart. Much smarter than most people seemed to realise, and even those that did notice simply attributed her intelligence to her future-seeing ability. They were wrong by far, yet it wouldn't be until Sky High when she was forced to do her exams in the Detention Room and still passed with flying colours that anyone would realise that she was actually smart on her own merits. By then, of course, she had been shunned and bullied to the point where she no longer cared that people thought she was cheating.

Despite her ability, Hourglass had been placed on the Sidekick track. It wasn't that it was her power was unworthy of the Hero status, but rather that she was blind. According to Coach Sylvester, her inability to see was supposedly limiting and therefore, she couldn't be a Hero.

Over time, it became apparent that her lack of sight wasn't limiting in any way whatsoever, and she was quickly transferred to the Hero track. Hourglass didn't mind, but other Hero-classed students saw it as an offence to their own powers that a  _Sidekick_  had been transferred across. She saw everything that the bullies at school planned to do to her, and was able to avoid the numerous chairs, stuck out feet, suddenly-opened locker doors while she was walking in the hallway. Most of the students became bored quickly, but some saw it as a challenge and attempted to break her in more creative ways in order to win what they saw as a new game.

Most of the teachers ignored the fact that she was being bullied in this way, and if any did ask about it, she simply said that nothing had happened. Hourglass knew exactly what would happen if she admitted anything, and knew that this was far easier to deal with.

After one particularly bad day involving ray guns that were  _accidentally_  misfired during Mad Science, Hourglass cornered her bully, telling her in great detail exactly what her life would be like if she continued this way.  _An unplanned and unwanted teen pregnancy that resulted in her being kicked out of her parents' house; it would be the catalyst of their divorce only a year later; she would have to live in a trailer home because her boyfriend would deny that the child was his, and she would be branded a slut; the looks that she was so vain about would fade within a few years due to alcohol abuse; her child would grow up being resented, and in turn, be resentful until she ran away from home at fifteen years old. She would die alone, old, and ugly_.

The girl had run away from her sobbing, broke up with her boyfriend that afternoon and left the school entirely by the week's end. Rumours abounded in the cafeteria, some claiming that Hourglass had manipulated the girl's future until she was too scared to leave the house, others saying that Hourglass had lied; all of them concluded that Hourglass was to blame, and she was branded as a villain for her actions.

After passing her exams with flying colours at the end of the year, receiving a higher mark than most seniors, Hourglass had been moved up to the senior class. She was only fifteen years old when she graduated from Sky High, but she had refused to pick a Sidekick or even use her power to fight. No matter that she wasn't fighting against heroes  **or**  villains, her refusal to fight resulted in more talk about her being a villain.

Instead, she went to work at a relatively new company in Maxville, making them soar until she had control over the business in a matter of years. From there, she did the same for four more local businesses, each within different sectors of the community: medicine, finance, food, and construction. They were all under her control by the time she was twenty-five years old, and she was rich enough to retire before she'd reached her thirtieth birthday. Instead, she bought a few smaller businesses in real estate. By thirty-two, she was a main benefactor to Sky High, and one of her larger donations allowed them to purchase the anti-gravitational device.

 _Three years later, Chaos would rise, and with her support, they would control every part of Maxville in a matter of months. But first, Royal Pain would return, be defeated by the Commander's son and his friends. Then, not even a year later, the Commander's son would break Layla's heart, the guinea pig girl (a whisper of_ Airborne  _and_ Shifter _flew through her mind, but she focused her attention on this instead) would increase the heartbreak through betrayal, and Layla would lean more heavily on Warren. They would become closer friends than Layla had ever been with the Commander's son, and eventually their friendship would become love. They would keep each other sane, heroic,_ ** _vanilla_** _until the right time_.  _It was only then that the time would be right for Hourglass to introduce herself to her future lieges_.

Hourglass was smart, smart enough to know that her time would come to finally become exactly what everyone had expected of her in the first place. She was smart enough to know that she could never be a hero, not when her talents were disregarded and mistrusted by the other heroes anyway. She would flourish as a villain, she would be respected, and for all of her smarts, Hourglass was still human enough to want that opportunity to be her own person and be respected for it.

She took a few deep breaths as a vision left her mind, her head swimming with scenes of the future, of possible futures, of fixed points, and every grain of sand that was, could be, and might have been. Her eyes scrunched up tightly, Hourglass gave a low whistle. Her phone beeped in response, and she picked the device up so she could call her assistant.

"Good morning, Sarah... I want to buy  _Labyrinth_. Yes, the tabloid magazine. Go as cheap as you can; I need to fix it so it can actually be useful."

With that done, she hung up from the call and sank down onto her armchair, images still swimming behind her eyes. She just had to be patient, and Hourglass knew that everything would fall into place.

She focused on Chaos' future for a moment, saw the heated arguments, the passion between her two lieges, the night-long discussions, and the recruitment process that they would go through. Their future spanned anywhere from an hour to their future generations, and Hourglass would be there for all of it, from their beginning to their end, if they so chose to end their reign. Beside her stood a boy who would become a man she could depend on. His superpower was underestimated due to his large build, and despite the bully he had been once, he would find the same acceptance under Chaos' reign as she would. Hourglass couldn't wait for it all to begin.

...

The end.


	4. Lustful

Steve hung up from the phone call, staring at the small red phone in his palm for a moment. He wondered if anyone would care if he just crushed the phone and pretended that he'd never had that conversation, never heard the call. Sighing, he ran a hand over his hair and headed down to the Secret Sanctum to get changed. Despite his reservations, Steve knew that he could never just ignore a call like that. He had to go and save Maxville from the villain's clutches again, even if the villain was actually a villainess in the form of one extremely attractive woman by the name of Lustful.

Josie had been called away to Rome, to attend some negotiations with the Ambassador in Italy or something, and she'd left him with express instructions not to fight Lustful on his own. But the Mayor had called, a haze of lust obvious even in his voice over the phone, and Lustful had made her demands. She'd promised to let the citizens of Maxville go if he'd fight her and come alone. There was no way the Commander could stand back and watch as the good citizens of Maxville were reduced to such mindless acts of debauchery, the lust in their minds taking over until they died of heart attacks, no matter who they were or how old. Lustful's power worked on old and young alike, so long as the person had enough hormones to become ... well, lustful. (Due to the nature in which people died, there was talk of Lustful wanting to call herself the Queen of Hearts, but all eventually decided that three syllables was too long to pronounce in a hurry.)

His tights on, cape adjusted, and glasses off, the Commander left the Secret Sanctum in the Jetcar (it wasn't really a jet car, but according to their PR agent, 'jet car' sounded better than The Car) and headed into Maxville's centre, where Lustful was holding the Mayor.  _She was probably caressing and kissing him too_.

Steve shook his head at the thought, his cheeks reddened slightly, and he shifted a gear, driving even faster. As he swerved past parked cars in the middle of the road, windows fogging up and lustful moans following him into the city, Steve shed his civilian persona and became the Commander, a superhero who thought of nothing more than the feelings the poor citizens around them were being subjected to against their will. If he didn't hurry, then they might even be killing themselves with sex.

Turning the steering wheel sharply, the Jetcar parked cleanly in the only available parking spot across from the Mayor's office. The Commander left the car and headed into the building. He figured that since he was expected, there was no point in trying to hide his entrance. The security guard was alone in the foyer, but the man's eyes were glazed, his eyes glued to the building's security screens as he stroked himself, wanton moans escaping his throat almost involuntarily. The Commander's eyes widened slightly, and he almost ran past the man to get to the elevators. Pressing a button, he stepped forward in relief when the doors slid open. Moans filtered out of the elevator, and his eyes widened further on seeing more than two people in various states of undress inside.

"Sorry," he said awkwardly, turning around and heading for the stairs, hoping that they'd be a safer and less traumatising trip.

A loud scream had the Commander running up the stairs as fast as he could, but the sight he came upon wasn't one of pain and torture, a woman's legs wrapped around a man's head as she screamed her release. The Commander stared briefly, a guilty pleasure at the sight.

"Oh, my. I-I'm sorry. I'll stop her soon. I promise," the Commander said, moving past them as quickly as he could.

The rest of the stairway seemed to be clear, and the Commander made it up to the top floor in a matter of minutes. He opened the door to hear a number of moans coming from various cubicles, and hurried past people, shielding his eyes the best he could as he headed towards the Mayor's office. The Commander hoped that the Mayor wasn't in any compromising situation, as the rest of the building's occupants were, and kept his eyes shielded as he walked into the office, just in case.

"Ah, the Commander. I'm so pleased you could  _come_ ," Lustful murmured, her voice itself a sultry sound that few could hope to resist.

Looking up now, the Commander saw that the Mayor was tied up in the corner of the room, but was covered in red-lipped kisses, his eyes trained on Lustful's alluring and revealing form as best as he could from his awkward position.

"Let them go, Lustful. They're not the reason you're here; I am," the Commander said, stepping forward with his hands on his hips, the classic superhero pose.

She just laughed, her eyes roaming over him luxuriously, the tip of her tongue moistening her red lips. " _Am I?_ What if I'm doing all of these people a favour? Giving them all a day of debauchery that they'll never forget?" Lustful asked, a wicked grin on her lips.

The Commander stepped forward involuntarily, the very sight of her lips making him long for her. It was a pheromone thing, Josie had told him that, and it was dangerous to even be in a ten-block radius of Lustful. Yet here he was, in the same room as her, and the Commander wondered what all of the fuss was about. In fact, she seemed almost innocent, with her big blue eyes shining at him like that. Her body was shapely, of course - a super named  _Lustful_  had to live up to the name - and her breasts were large, smooth, perfectly round.  _As if they were made for him to hold, to touch, to taste and mark. Overall, the most danger Lustful seemed to have was her thighs; they looked as though they could kill a man if they were wrapped around him, and what a way to go_.

Lustful made another laugh, this time her gaze was focused on one particular area of the Commander's body. He shook his head quickly, his traitorous thoughts clearing, even as he went bright red, moving his cape to hide his problem.

"Stop it, Lustful! Let them go and fight me properly."

"Stop it? Oh, my dear Commander, I can't stop my power any more than you can. You can't turn your power off, all of those big... muscles and indestructibility, and I can't turn mine off either," Lustful murmured, moving towards him carefully.

He didn't move a muscle, watching her warily for weapons. She didn't produce any, simply smiling at him, albeit a little sadly.

"You were given the ability to  _choose_  with your power: good or evil. But with mine and the response I invoke in people, I've only  _ever_ been viewed as a villain, and I can't escape that, no matter what I say or do... The people are out there fucking each other because of me, and I can't stop them. It's my curse, you see. The entire town is in the throes of pleasure, and not caring if every villain rises up to take over the city! I'm a danger to them, to you, to everyone, even myself. I only called you here to talk, Commander. Won't you talk with me?" Lustful asked, her fingers trailing along his bicep as she looked up at him through long blonde eyelashes.

He nodded, and she smiled prettily, standing up on her toes, her lips pressing up against his gently. As soon as she kissed him, a feeling overcame the Commander - no,  **Steve**. The Commander disappeared at the touch of her lips, leaving nothing but the man in his wake - and he needed Lustful more than he needed to  _breathe_. His lips crashed against hers, his fingers tearing at the ridiculous outfit she wore, her body pressing up against his. Lustful moaned against his mouth and Steve knew that no sound had ever sounded sweeter. She wrapped a leg wrapped around his waist, his hands now working at his own outfit. In a matter of seconds, he was buried inside of her, Lustful was screaming his name and he pushed her up against a wall, fucking her harder than he'd ever fucked anyone else before. His vision was nothing but a haze of lust, of sex, of the need to have, take, bite, claim, mark, grope, fuck,  _fuck, fuck harder, please harder_.  _Oh, wait, that was Lustful_. Steve grinned, his fingers digging into her hips as he happily complied. Lustful screamed her orgasm, Steve's own following a moment later, and accompanied in the chorus of screams and moans, a door slammed open behind them.

Turning around, Lustful still wrapped around his waist, Steve smiled at Josie happily, his orgasm's haze still clouding his mind.

"Oh, hello, Josie love. Care to join in?" Lustful asked with a giggle.

"No, thank you, Laurie," she said icily. "Steve, what are you doing?" Josie asked sharply, glowering at him, her hands clenched by her sides tightly.

"I caught Lustful."

"Yeah, with his cock," Lustful added, laughing again.

"Shut up, Laurie. Unwrap yourself from my husband this instant, and stand up against the wall."

"Well, if you wanted me on display like that, all you had to do was ask," Lustful quipped, unwrapping her body from Steve's and moving to the wall, her body in a promiscuous pose.

She knew that she was probably going to gaol, but despite that, Lustful knew that she had still won; Steve succumbing to her power and fucking her right in front of his wife was the kind of thing that would break the world's two greatest superheroes. It would all be because of her, gaol or not. She smiled smugly, even as Josie glared at her and moved forward, a pair of power repressing handcuffs in her hands. As soon as the large and bulky white cuffs were on Lustful's wrists, the moans that had been filtering in from the cubicles outside stopped completely, and Steve seemed to regain his senses. His eyes widened when he realised that he was exposed, and he turned to cover himself up again.

"Ah well. It was fun, Steve. Call me," Lustful said jovially over her shoulder, Jetstream marching her out of the Mayor's office.

She laughed at the sight of various women and men standing up, shirts open, pants gone, hands wet and sticky. The smell of sex in the air had no equal, and if the cuffs weren't on her, then Lustful's power would have increased even more. She could already feel the swell of pheromones inside of her, and she knew that if she kissed someone now, they would succumb to her even without an extra burst of power.

"Oh, Josie? How about a kiss? You know, for old times' sake?" Lustful asked, licking her lips. "Remember how we used to drive the boys crazy? I sure remember your hands inside my shirt," she added, grinning.

"Be quiet, Laurie. It was a mistake to choose you as my sidekick; I know that now. The only thing I'm doing with you is sending you straight to Maxville's Super Penitentiary," Jetstream muttered. "They've got power repressors, just like the ones you're wearing now. You'll never escape, and never be able to use your power again, just as it should be."

Lustful's eyes widened, and she stopped suddenly. "But, Josie, you said you loved me."

"That was  _you_ , your power, that wasn't  _me_ ," Jetstream muttered, ignoring Lustful's giggle.

"Hmm, probably. Ah well, at least I got your husband to fuck me. I bet he's never been as rough with you as he was with me; poor thing's probably too terrified of hurting his precious and perfect wife to really give you a good fucking," Lustful sneered. "I'm going to be bruised for  _months_ ," she added, a shiver of pleasure flowing over her.

"You're sick, Laurie," Jetstream said, shaking her head pityingly as she led her prisoner out of the elevator and through the foyer.

" _You're_  jealous," she replied, turning around suddenly, slipping out of Jetstream's grasp only to kiss her soundly. "I  _did_ ask if you wanted to join in," she murmured, her tongue flicking against Josie's bottom lip.

Josie made a sound, something between a moan and protest, and with a smirk, Lustful continued to kiss her. In the background, she heard the security guard's moan add in to the chorus, and the pleasure he felt at the sight of them kissing increased her power, no matter the cuffs around her wrists. Some powers just couldn't be contained when they were in such a close and personal proximity - the cuffs could only contain what she emitted to others that weren't right in front of her,  _kissing her_ \- and Lustful's lipstick increased the pheromones as well. They worked so well until Josie herself was undoing the cuffs, freeing Lustful so she could get more of her. The moment she heard the cuffs open, Lustful pulled away from Josie, licking her swollen lips in pleasure.

"You always  _did_ know how to kiss me best, Josie," she quipped with a wink.

A rush of power flew out of Lustful, a hazy red wave flowing out of her, hitting Josie and making her fall to the ground, before shooting up through the building. All through the office, people fell to the floor in an after-orgasm haze, their eyes closing, their pleasure exhausting them to the point of sleep. With everyone out like a light, Lustful gave another laugh, pressing a kiss to her calling card, a red smear lying beside Josie's fallen form.

Lustful left the building, a satisfied smirk on her lips. She could have killed them easily, but it just wasn't her style. Besides, it only meant that she'd be able to get a bigger rise out of Josie the next time they met. Josie, who wanted nothing more than to be seen as perfect to the world, and definitely not a woman who'd gone around town kissing villains-to-be like Lustful just to tease men. Josie was the best-known female superhero in the world, and she had to live up to the reputations of the abounding male superheroes if she wanted to make it in the super world. Even if that meant denying everything she'd done that didn't fit in with that perfection.

Josie was unable to look at Steve after what he'd done, and he spent most of his afternoon clearing off the old sofa lounge in the Secret Sanctum to sleep on that night, and presumably for a month or two after that. Leaving her husband in the Sanctum, Josie flew up to the house, the wall sliding shut behind her. In their room, she took out Lustful's calling card from her pocket, the red lips mocking her. Throwing the card in the bin, Josie lit a match, threw it in, and watched as the card burned, the red lips the last to fade away.

...

The end.


	5. Vanilla

Warren muttered under his breath as he walked through The Hive. The recruits were smart enough to get out of his way, word spreading through them faster than a wildfire, and soon there was a clear path for him to get to his room without seeing anyone else.

Layla was already waiting for him when he opened the door. She frowned slightly as she made her way over, her lips briefly touching his cheek. "I heard you were in a mood. What's wrong? Did something happen at Honey's?"

"She... She was talking about some sort of alternate future. Damn kid and cookie-cutter house. Something about baking and bowls being dangerous projectiles. Us being together, but ... vanilla and heroes," Warren spat.

Layla startled him by laughing. She tried to muffle the sound behind her hand, but it spilled out nonetheless, and he glared down at her.

"What's so funny?"

"Us, being heroes. Could you imagine it? Me, what? Working in a garden nursery?" Layla snorted. "Oh, and you! You'd have to be a firefighter, just for the pun! You dressed in one of those uniforms in the Firefighter's "charity" calendar..."

She trailed off suddenly, and from the look in her eyes, Warren could tell that she was imagining him exactly like that. There was a grin that promised he'd probably be put in a firefighter's uniform sooner rather than later, and then Layla's small frown returned.

"Still, I don't see how it would have put you in such a bad mood. What else did Honey say?"

"Nothing, just that," Warren said, shrugging.

He tried to move past Layla and get to their bed, but she stood in front of him and looked up at him quizzically.

"All right, so why did that put you in a bad mood? It's an alternate universe; an other place we can no longer reach, you know that."

"Yeah, I do know that... But... You don't... Do you ever think about what it would be like, if we did have that sort of life?"

"Yeah, sometimes. It'd be boring. Neither of us were made for that sort of life, Warren. We couldn't handle being heroes anymore than the Jetstream and Commander could be villains. I mean,  **I**  don't think we could. Are you starting to have second thoughts?" Layla asked, her hand slipping into his.

"No, of course not. I... I just. I couldn't imagine bringing a kid into this world, not with the way we are. You know that someone would try to threaten our kid, and I know that I'd have to kill everyone involved just to keep them safe. Oh, I don't know. Honey's just got me thinking vanilla, and it's messing with my mind. I'll be fine in the morning, after a solid ten hours sleep," Warren said with a sigh.

He finally made his way over to the bed without having Layla obstruct him. Warren sat down and pulled his boots off, his jacket off next and thrown across the room to the chair. By the time he'd shucked off his pants, Layla was by his side once more. She straddled him gently, her lips soft against his. Considering the rough and heated kisses they usually shared, Warren was surprised at how gentle Layla was being.

"What're you doing, hippie?"

She pulled away and looked down at him with a smile. "You want to try out vanilla, then we'll try it out. In here first, then out there if you think you can handle it," Layla added.

He was surprised at her offer - Warren doubted she'd ever thought about truly being vanilla since they'd first started recruiting other villains five years ago - but was curious enough to nod in response. Layla kissed him again, her lips soft and malleable against his mouth. She pulled him down onto the bed, his body covering hers. He kissed her back eagerly, his fingers starting to fist in her hair harshly.

"Uh-huh. No hurting. We're staying vanilla tonight, remember?"

He let out a noise of frustration, but returned to kissing her, his hand slipping around to cup her cheek. Warren barely resisted the urge to tilt her chin back and nip at her skin. Layla smiled up at him, soft and innocent rather than his wild and experienced lover. Warren kept kissing her, forcing himself to be gentle when he stroked her skin, and not to bite her lip or earlobes, despite knowing how it drove her wild. He guided his cock into her slowly, trying to draw out the feel of her body wrapped around his. They began to move, and soon enough, Layla was coming, her body clenching around him. Her orgasm elicited a moan of desire, rather than her usual ear-piercing scream and Warren decided it was  _weird_  when his ears weren't ringing with the sound of her lust-filled scream.

"Oh, fuck it. Sit up and let me fuck you properly," he growled.

"Thank god," she breathed, kissing him heatedly.

They pulled away, their lips swollen to the point of drawing blood. Layla wrapped her legs around Warren's body, and he did as promised, fucking her for all his worth. She orgasmed half an hour later, and Warren's ears rang for days afterwards.

He never brought up being vanilla again, but there were times when he thought of that other universe; one where they were both good and could raise a daughter without fearing that she would become a bargaining chip, where they weren't fighting in what felt like a never-ending war with the Commander and Jetstream. Then Layla would bring out a firefighter's uniform with a lust-ridden look in her eyes, or they'd jet off to the Cayman Islands for an impromptu holiday with money from their latest robbery, and Warren knew he couldn't live his life any other way.

...

The end.


	6. Partner in crime

Warren had become a villain a year after graduating from Sky High - the very same day Will announced his intention to join his parents and be part of the Stronghold Three. Some things were simply inevitable; Warren's descent into evil and Will's ascent into light were two of those inevitable things, and their fate would never change.

Over the past year, Warren found that he was  _so very good_  at being bad, and relished the idea and feeling of getting exactly what he wanted. He'd finally lived up to everyone's expectations of him, and Warren fucking loved it.

He had to fight the Stronghold Three whenever they tried to stop his latest scheme, and so far, he was winning against them. Warren knew that Will was pissed off about that more than anything else, because Airborne himself had stopped by his apartment a month ago. Will had thought that by berating him about his latest scheme while he was out of uniform would stop Warren from hurting him. ( _He'd kidnapped the Mayor, so fucking what? It's not like he **really** hurt him, he just left a few scorch marks to make sure he got all of the money he'd demanded._) Will had pleaded and begged him to come to the side of good again, to work with him instead of against him, and to put all of this foolishness behind them. Warren had laughed in his face and thrown a ball of fire directly at the naive idiot so he knew he was serious and wasn't above hurting him, no matter what he was wearing, before slamming the door in his face.

Warren moved out of his apartment that day and moved into this two-storey house. He didn't bother telling anyone where he'd gone. There was no point; he was never going to be a hero, not now, not ever, and nothing they would say could convince him otherwise. He'd had a whole month of solitude, but Warren should have known that it couldn't last.

He came home one afternoon to find Layla sitting on his front steps, waiting for him patiently. Warren glared at her, stepped half around, half over her to get to his front door. She stood and followed him inside without waiting for an invitation, both of them knowing he wouldn't have offered one anyway. Warren went straight for the kitchen and grabbed two beers. She took the bottle but didn't open it, just as he'd expected. He rolled his eyes, took off the lid of his own beer and took a swig.

"How'd you find me, hippie?" he asked, glaring briefly and wondering who he had to kill for betraying his location.

"You brought my plants when you moved out; I know where all of my plants are," she said with a brief shrug.

Warren raised an eyebrow at that little tidbit, making a mental note to destroy the plants later. "So what're you doing here, then? You've come to tell me the error of my ways too?" he asked, somewhere between a sigh and a sneer.

"No, I haven't come to do that," Layla said, shaking her head. "I came here because I want to join you."

His bottle, half raised to his lips, was lowered immediately, and Warren just stared at her. There was a fierce determination in her eyes that he could see as plain as day, and for a moment, he actually believed her. Then he came to his senses; this was Layla, after all. She was probably doing some weird-ass reverse psychology thing on him because Will had asked her to. She would've agreed, even though they'd stopped dating a few months after they began dating in Sky High -  _they'd agreed to be friends, and somehow, had actually managed to do exactly that. What kind of people dated each other, kissed each other, and then went right back to being friends?!_  But onto more important matters: hippie saying she wanted to join him.

"What the fuck, hippie? Why the ever-loving fuck would you want to join me for?" he asked, not quite so believing, but still just as stunned.

"The system doesn't work, it's not designed to work, and even worse, no one seems to  _care_. So if no one cares, then I'm not going to waste my time trying anymore. I'm sick of working for nothing and getting nowhere. I didn't eat for a whole fucking week last month because I had no income and still had rent to pay. I can't survive as a hero, not anymore."

Warren stayed silent, still trying to process the fact that Little-Miss-Do-Good herself wanted to join him (not to mention the fact that she'd actually sworn surprised him too; over the past six years, he'd probably heard her swear twice, and even then it was an ' _oh gee golly gosh darn_ ' type of swearing that made him want to rip his own fucking teeth out). He raised his beer to his lips again and drank, never looking away from her as he downed the rest of the bottle in one shot.

"So that's it, you want to join me just so you can eat? If that's the only reason, then go get a fucking job or apply for government handouts, hippie. I'm not burdening myself with someone who won't even fight in the first place."

She laughed, a hollow laugh that surprised him all over again, and shook her head at him. "You haven't been watching the news lately, have you?"

"Not really; I'm not overly fond of the way the media's been portraying me," Warren said with a sneer.

"Understandable... Fine, tomorrow night, watch the 6 o'clock news and then tell me if I'm still not worthy of joining you," Layla said, standing and leaving abruptly.

Warren frowned after her, belatedly realising that she'd taken the bottle of beer with her.

...

The next morning, Warren went out early to get his newspaper (or rather, steal his neighbour's paper - it was the guy's own fault for not getting up earlier to get it himself, really). Sitting on his front steps was an empty beer bottle and he grinned slightly at the sight, kicking it across the yard so it rolled onto his neighbour's side of the driveway. With stolen newspaper in hand, Warren went back inside to read it over with a very strong cup of coffee in hand (he still wasn't sure if waking up early to steal the paper was worth it; he'd decide after reading it, if there was even anything about the hippie in there).

He skipped over the article that mentioned him -  _the War-maker strikes again; steals seven thousand dollars from local bank and leaves in a fiery blaze!_  (It was surprisingly difficult to think of a villainous name on the spot, and he'd almost said his actual name, which is how _War-maker_  came about. It was still better than  _Hothead_ , that's for sure.) Skimming over the pages, his fingers staining black with the ink in a matter of seconds, Warren tried to find any mention of Layla or Flora ( _apparently it was hard to think of hero names on the spot too_ ) in the articles. Warren read the paper front to back three times before coming to the conclusion that she was lying. There was no way the hippie had done - or ever would do - anything that would make him agree to let her join him. She was just too nice and way too  _vanilla_ ; she'd never have the guts to do anything more than string people up with her vines (and that's probably only after they attacked her).

Yet, as six o'clock chimed in, Warren still found himself turning on the TV and switching over to the news channel. The Channel Five presenter, Brian Anderson, was missing his usual award-winning smile as he announced the headline news: every single plant in the Botanical Gardens had come alive, wrapped themselves around the people inside, and then withered moments later. The plants had died far too soon for anyone to really react, but the most interesting part was that the dying plants had actually killed the people they had ensnared as well, as if the plants had sucked the life out of them one by one in the same instant. Over seventy people were estimated to be dead. But that wasn't the end of it. Across town, at exactly the same time as the Botanical Gardens deaths, a rose bush had grown exponentially until it encompassed an entire street of suburban houses. It was the same street where the famous realty sellers from Stronghold Realty lived (who insisted that they weren't related to the Stronghold Three at all, no matter if they looked similar or had a similar name, really), and as the rose bush had cut off all sources of electricity and was somehow blocking the satellite connection for cellular devices, there was no way of knowing whether there were any survivors. The local fire department were still attempting to bring down the overgrown rose bush to rescue people from their own homes, but were already stretched thin by the events at the Botanical Gardens. The Stronghold Three had yet to respond to the Mayor's call for justice for the deaths that had occurred at the Botanical Gardens.

Warren sat back on his armchair in a state of shock. "Well, fuck me."

"I hope that means I can join you. Help me lie down before I collapse, would you? I haven't had to use that much power for a while," Layla muttered from his lounge room doorway.

"How'd you get in here?" he asked suspiciously, even as he rose to help her to the couch.

"My vines are very useful at opening locked doors. Nearly all doors have a space beneath them for ventilation or whatever, and it's just enough room for me to get in wherever I like," Layla said, grinning, albeit a little weakly.

"You probably wiped yourself out by using all of that power, y'know, hippie."

"If you're letting me join you, then it was worth it. Besides, how many supers - hero or villain - can say they bested the Stronghold Three? Pretty sure I got Magenta stuck in there with them and Mrs. Stronghold's allergic to vermin," she said with a snicker, lying down on his three-seater couch.

"I don't even want to know how you know that, hippie. Lie down and go to sleep. If you're back at full strength in the morning,  _then_  we'll talk."

"What if I'm not?" she asked sleepily.

"Then you're no use to me, getting wiped out like that so easily," Warren said; there was no point sugar-coating it, not when his reputation as a villain was at stake.

Layla yawned widely, nodded, and closed her eyes to sleep. Warren watched her for a moment, still thinking about the news that had aired on TV. Grabbing his jacket and keys, Warren left his house to go to the Botanical Gardens and see what had happened for himself. It wasn't that he didn't trust the media...  _Actually, yes, it was_. He wouldn't trust those media-hunting bastards as far as he could throw them. They turned every molehill into a mountain just to ensure they got their ratings, and the news they'd showed might be nothing more than a couple of plants rising out of the dirt and causing a few scratches to some careless citizens.

Red and blue lights flashed in the distance, and as he arrived at the Gardens, Warren saw the multitudes of ambulances, police vehicles, and fire trucks surrounding the small entrance. He headed straight over to the fire truck like he was meant to be there. Two men were already at the truck, one of them his height and build. Warren knocked both of them out (one with a fist, the other with a fireball), and put on the firefighter's suit before dragging both men into the front of the truck. Putting a helmet onto his head, Warren bypassed the tape and police officers at the entrance without being stopped, and he headed straight into the Gardens.

For once, the news had actually downplayed a tragic event. The few pictures that had been aired on the evening news couldn't quite capture the desolation that enveloped the Gardens. People were still wrapped in the plants that had killed them, the dead plants withered and black around their lifeless bodies. The trees and plants that didn't hold victims hadn't suffered quite so badly, and there were even a few roses still in bloom (despite it being the middle of the night), their very presence making the whole scene more than slightly fucked up.

Behind the helmet's visor, Warren grinned broadly. He absolutely  _loved_  what Layla had done. If she made it through to the morning with full strength, then there was no doubt of her joining with him, and to be honest, Warren couldn't wait to see what they could do together. He discreetly let out a burst of power, and as he walked away from the Gardens, the entire place began to burn behind him.

...

Layla stood in Warren's kitchen, sipping at her coffee quietly in the early hours of the morning. A fireman's outfit was sitting in a heap by the table, a helmet hanging from a chair precariously. She'd woken up before 5am, feeling better than she had in years. Warren was still asleep, and from the snores she could hear coming from the other end of the house, she doubted he'd be getting up anytime soon. She didn't mind; it had been too long since she'd had this sort of peace and quiet. Setting the coffee cup down, Layla went outside to see Warren's garden.

The patch of grass wasn't much, but she hadn't expected a lot anyway. There was a strip of concrete separating the grass and house, which is where all of Layla's plants were sitting. Every single plant she'd gifted over the years for birthdays, Christmas, and even Easter (it was a cocoa plant, it sort of fit the theme) was sitting on that concrete strip. She knew that he'd kept them while he was in his old apartment, but Layla was still truly surprised that Warren still had the plants after coming here. She brushed her fingertips against a few of the flowers gently, a grin spreading across her face as she recognised her power within the plants themselves. She coaxed them awake, and they followed easily, despite the early hour. Layla laughed softly as she made the plants climb higher and wider until they encompassed the entire garden and were making their way over the fence into the neighbour's yard. Spying a newspaper on the ground, Layla used one of the plants to throw it towards her over the fence. It flew wider than she expected, and she turned quickly on hearing it being caught rather than hitting the house.

"I assume you're at full strength then?" Warren asked with a smirk, sipping at the coffee -  _her coffee, thank you very much!_  - and going back inside.

Layla made the plants retreat abruptly and followed him, taking her mug from him with a glare. "Get your own damn coffee."

"Technically, it  **is**  my coffee. I bought it."

"I made it," she argued.

"Whatever, hippie," he said with a shrug, turning to get another mug out of  **his**  cupboard.

"So why are you up? I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Not unless you were making cat screeching noises right by my window on the other side of the house," Warren muttered.

Layla snickered at the thought of a cat getting the better of Warren Peace, and quickly turned her attention to the newspaper when he glared at her over his shoulder.

"What the  _fuck?_ " she muttered, setting her mug down to look at the paper properly.

"What?" Warren asked, coming to stand beside her with his coffee in hand.

The front page featured the Stronghold Three, who had saved the residents of a plant-covered street (there was a picture of them smiling and posing with a grateful family, Jetstream looking a little puffy as if she was waiting for certain allergies to lessen, and what could have been a stomach-swollen guinea pig in the background). Layla's actions at the Botanical Gardens weren't mentioned until the fifth page, and there was a single sentence about the fire that had occurred later that night. The paper was shredded in her hands in a matter of seconds.

"I bet if I killed the Stronghold Three, the paper wouldn't mention a damn thing about me. Oh, that's frustrating!"

Warren snorted in amusement. "Tell me about it; the first heist I did resulted in a single article ten pages in. It stated that the bank had lost the money, as if they'd misplaced it or something. Idiots."

Layla glared at the paper again, wishing she could burn the damn thing to a pile of ashes. It burst into flame immediately, and for a second, she actually thought her wish had come true. Then she remembered that Warren was right there;  _of course it was him_.

"So, have you given it any more thought? Me joining with you, that is," she added quickly.

"Yes."

Layla waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't say anything and she frowned. "And?"

"I just gave you my answer, hippie. Pay attention."

"Wait, yes,  _yes?!_  You mean it?"

"Ugh, not if you're going to act all...  _perky_  like that. Stop it," Warren muttered, stepping back away from her.

"Oh, fuck off. I'm allowed to be perky if I want to be."

He just chuckled and finished the rest of his coffee in a quick gulp. "Come on, hippie, finish your coffee and we'll go see what you can do."

Layla emptied her mug in a matter of seconds. Warren hid a grin at her enthusiasm and led her to his sanctum to start their training.

...

Will slipped out of bed, Magenta curling up against a spare pillow in his absence, and padded over to his window quietly. Somewhere out there, Warren and Layla were wreaking havoc and causing complete chaos. Layla had disappeared almost five months ago and up until last week, no one had heard a thing from her. Will had assumed she'd left the state, and some part of him still wished that she'd done exactly that. Anything but join with Warren.

There was no way he could stop them; he couldn't fight them, they were his friends, no matter what they'd done or would do. He couldn't bring himself to hurt them, even though he knew they wouldn't hesitate to hurt him. (He picked at one of the bandages around his arm that had been caused by one of Layla's poisonous vines; oh yes, he knew all too well that they wouldn't hesitate.)

His parents had tried to talk to him, telling him that Layla and Warren were villains now. They'd chosen their side, they'd hurt and killed people. He had no choice but to stop them. Will knew that, he'd told himself it over and over since he'd seen them fighting side by side. There was still a stabbing guilt in his chest because he knew exactly what had driven them to be evil. It was his fault, all of it.

Warren had asked him - actually said the words out loud, and even said  _please_  - if he would join him on the side of good instead of joining with his parents. Warren was known to be a good guy (semi-good if you didn't get on his bad side) at Sky High, but that meant nothing on the ground; it was a reputation he had at high school and it meant fuck all in the real world. Warren wouldn't get anywhere as a hero without Will by his side. Will said no, even though he desperately wanted to join his best friend. But his parents - and the public - were expecting him to join the Stronghold Three, and he couldn't disappoint them. The very next day, Will announced his intention to join his parents as part of the Stronghold Three, naming himself Airborne. He'd seen Warren at the back of the gym during his graduation, but at his announcement, his friend had turned and left without looking back.

Layla, oh god, what he'd done to her was even worse. He had picked her as his sidekick, the fourth of the Stronghold Three (even without the prestigious surname), and they'd worked together so well. She knew all of his strengths and complemented all of his weaknesses. Layla had even become invaluable to his parents, helping them when they didn't even know they needed help. She became so much to all of them, but he'd treated her like a sidekick, meagre pay included. She'd been his best friend since they were in kindergarten, and he'd demeaned her at every turn, treated her like she was less than he was. He'd become the worst of his father without even realising it. Then, when Layla had told him what he was doing - she'd even asked him, pleaded with him to stop - he'd laughed at her, said she was just jealous, and had asked Magenta to be his sidekick the very next hour.

He'd turned Warren into a villain, then driven Layla away and straight into Warren's arms. It was all his fault, and Will couldn't bring himself to fight them when he'd created what they'd become. Will turned his back on the window, running his hand through his hair. He sighed heavily and returned to his bed and Magenta's warm embrace.

In the street below, two people stepped out into the light of a streetlamp. Layla pressed a fierce kiss to Warren's lips and he flicked his tongue out briefly to taste her. As they kissed, two vines snaked their way towards the Stronghold's house, and Warren's hands lit up brilliantly. The two vines had large leaves that hid the fire's light; and shadows played on their faces as they pulled away. Layla grinned at Warren wickedly, the grin returned immediately, and then they turned to advance on the Stronghold Three's home.

...

The end.


	7. Future changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story fits with 'Grains of Sand'

Sarah was a citizen in a world teeming with superheroes. Except here she was, a hostage in a bank robbery, and the superheroes were nowhere to be found. The Commander and Jetstream were off fighting King Kanehamayhem in Hawaii, and none of the local heroes had their kind of response time. If one of these robbers got trigger-happy, she'd be dead before anyone came to their rescue. It was a sobering thought, and one that she didn't want to dwell on for very long. Instead, Sarah tried to calm her racing heart and tried not to bring attention to herself.

The bank door opened with a ding, and everyone turned to look at the woman that had just walked inside.

"You didn't lock the door?" one of the robbers yelled at his partners. "You, get inside and get on the ground, now!" he demanded of the newcomer, pointing his gun at her.

"All right, no need to yell," the woman said calmly, stepping among the people lying on the floor to make her way straight over to Sarah. "How you doing, sweetie? All right?" she asked as she moved to kneel beside her.

"Uh, I'm okay at the moment," Sarah replied softly.

"You two know each other?" one of the robbers asked in surprise.

"No," Sarah said, shaking her head.

"We will, after this is all over," the woman said with yet another smile. "I need an assistant."

"And what if I shoot you right now?" he sneered.

"Oh, you won't," the woman replied certainly.

"Get over here!" a robber called to his co-conspirator, the bank vault opening.

The man looked away from the two woman and hurried over to the vault.

"How'd you know he wouldn't shoot us?" Sarah asked quietly, not taking her gaze away from the robbers crowded around the vault.

"Because I'm not wearing the right outfit."

"Uh, what?"

The other woman just smiled widely. "I'll explain it later, if you don't mind, Sarah?"

"How'd you know my name?" she asked, a cold shiver running through her.

"Another thing for later. My name's Honey, it's nice to meet you," she replied, smiling again. "Now, how about you and I get out of here?"

"We're hostages, you do realise that, don't you?" Sarah asked, wondering if this woman was sane.

"Yes, I realise that. But Sonic Boom's on his way now with All-American Boy. We'll be out of here in five minutes," Honey said.

"Did you contact them? Is that how you know?" Sarah asked, her voice a bit louder than she intended with her desperation. She was desperate for an explanation, for  _something_  to make sense and be  _normal_  in her already wildly bizarre day.

"Sarah, please stop drawing attention to us. Stay quiet. I promise I'll explain everything."

Realising that the two of the robbers were looking in their direction, Sarah clamped her mouth shut. She watched the clock above the door carefully.

Three minutes later, a police officer called for everyone to get on the ground. Sarah was pulled down by Honey not even a second into his instruction, and mere seconds after the rest of the citizens were on the ground, there was a loud booming noise and the window shattered into millions of pieces. Sarah clamped her hands over her ringing ears, looking up with watering eyes to see Sonic Boom stepped into the bank, hands on hips as he posed and stopped to survey the scene. All-American Boy stood near Sonic Boom, posing in a less obvious way and looking for something he could do.

The robbers tried to secure themselves in the vault, intent on shooting their way out of the bank when Sonic Boom got close enough, but his boom had bent the door out of shape, and they had nowhere to hide. Now that a superhero had arrived, the hostages tried to run out of the bank, All-American Boy ushering them out as fast and quietly as he could. Honey held onto Sarah's arm, making her stay on the ground when she might have tried to run too.

The robbers realised that they were trapped and started firing their weapons out into the main part of the bank. There were screams from the citizens outside as a few citizens were killed in the fray of bullets. All-American Boy had jumped high towards the roof to avoid the oncoming bullets, while Sonic Boom was able to protect himself by booming out a blast that stopped the array of bullets in mid-air. The boom continued through the air until it hit the vault door, making it cave in on itself completely to reveal the robbers. A secondary boom had them all collapsing on the floor, clawing at their ears until they went unconscious, twitching slightly.

Exactly five minutes after Honey had predicted, the remaining hostages were allowed to leave the bank, the robbers cuffed and being taken to the various police cars strewn throughout the street. Sarah followed the others out, All-American Boy giving them all his best and most reassuring smile (she still thought he looked a little lost without the Commander, no matter which superhero he took up with after his embarrassing and very public redundancy). It wasn't until she'd finished answering the policeman's questions, and had been given a hot drink and a blanket to help with her shock, that Sarah realised Honey was nowhere to be seen. She finished her drink, folded the blanket, and went to her apartment to try and forget this awful day.

...

A week later, Sarah was still holed up in her apartment. She hadn't left since returning from the bank robbery, a fear clutching and seizing her chest when she tried to step outside of her apartment. She'd been forced to take the week off work in an effort to get over her shock and trauma, and had been told in no uncertain terms that if she didn't return to work after that week, then she would have no job to come back to.

Standing in front of her bare pantry, Sarah wondered if she would be able to survive a quick trip to the shops. Thankfully, she'd managed to bank her paycheque before the holdup started, and she had rung the bank a few days ago to ensure she'd been paid, despite everything. Still, she couldn't bring herself to leave her apartment, and Sarah was now down to her last packet of two-minute noodles. She'd have to go to the shops eventually, and even return to the bank at one point, she was sure of it. The likelihood of the bank being robbed again were fairly low (especially now that the Commander and Jetstream were back from their trip to Hawaii), but she still couldn't make herself shower, put clothes on, and leave her apartment. Her home was safe, not like the outside world.

 _Maybe there was something in the freezer_ , Sarah mused, making her way into the kitchen.  _Ice cubes, ice stars, ice circles. Dear god, why did she have so many ice trays? And how had she never noticed them before_?

"Looks like I'll have to go to the bank then. No one ever told me that being an adult would suck this damn much," Sarah muttered under her breath.

She paced a few times, trying to get her courage up to leave the apartment. She would be fine. Nothing would happen, and the robbers were already behind bars thanks to Sonic Boom (and to a lesser extent, All-American Boy). But Sarah still couldn't bring herself to leave. Her breath came in short gasps, her hands started trembling, and she hadn't even managed to open her front door yet. She flopped onto her couch, feeling utterly useless, pathetic, and deep down, glad that she didn't have to leave her safety zone just yet. Clutching a spare pillow, Sarah drifted off into a restless sleep, her feet hanging off the edge of her lounge.

...

A knock at the door startled Sarah out of her sleep, several hours later. She was almost falling off the lounge, having tossed and turned in her sleep, and Sarah could feel that her hair was a mess. The knocking continued, a bit obnoxiously at that, and she let out a groan of pain as she sat up. Her lounge really wasn't fit for sleeping on.

"Coming!" she called, voice rough with sleep and probably a lack of a proper diet for the past week.

Sarah stood and made her way over to the door. A stupid and irrational fear gripped her a mere metre from the doorway: what if those robbers had escaped prison and come to find her? It was a ridiculous thought since she was one of thirty-odd people who had been in the bank at the time, had left no lasting impression with them, and besides, they didn't know where she lived. But still, the fear was there, and Sarah couldn't bring herself to move the last metre to the door and peephole just yet.

"It's probably just Mr. Martin come to talk about your rent for the month," Sarah muttered to herself; though honestly, that wasn't much of an enticement to move. Mr. Martin could be a mean old fellow, and she might actually burst into tears if he berated her for being late with the rent.

"It's not, actually. Any chance you can open the door sooner rather than later, I'm about to drop dinner," a feminine voice called.

The voice was somewhat familiar, but Sarah couldn't place it, and it didn't make her any less wary of opening the door. Sarah's stomach, however, had other ideas because the word 'dinner' had been mentioned, and she was kind of starving. The decision was made for her, it seemed, because she took the final four steps to the door and opened it without even checking the peephole. The woman from the bank stood there, arms loaded with bags - certainly more than needed for a simple dinner - and smiled at her brightly.

"You're... You were at the bank that day, weren't you?" Sarah asked, eyes wide.

"Yes. I was also there today, waiting for you, but it seemed that you changed your mind at the last minute and decided to sleep instead. Perhaps in the next few hours, you might decide to shower?" Honey suggested, nose wrinkling slightly.

Okay, she might have been lax in her hygiene for the week as well as everything else, but Sarah didn't think she smelled  _that_ bad. She was tempted to sniff and check, but Honey was still standing there with the bags. One of the bags began to tilt forward and Sarah hurried to grab it so she wouldn't have to clean up spilled groceries on top of everything else.

"Ah, good, I was hoping you'd catch it. D'you mind carrying these two as well? They're cutting off the circulation to my fingers," Honey added with a grimace, holding out the two bags.

Sarah took them wordlessly, not quite sure what to do with this woman's groceries now.

"They're for you, Sarah. You not going to the bank meant that you wouldn't go shopping today, and you'd try to survive on a single packet of noodles for three days. You need to throw those out, they'll make you sick if you eat them again," Honey added, walking inside without an invitation, still laden with bags. "Now, where's the kitchen?"

"Uh, over there to the left."

"Hmm, not quite the response I was hoping for, but it's better than being thrown out, I suppose," Honey muttered, as if to herself, then turned and headed straight into the kitchen.

Sarah closed her door and quickly sniffed under her arm, blinking a few times at the smell - okay, she  _definitely_  needed a shower sooner rather than later, she admitted it. Hearing a few noises of crockery being cleared, Sarah hurried after Honey, trying to kick the mess of clothes and blankets out of the way without jostling the grocery bags too much at the same time.

"Why are you here, Honey?" Sarah asked, setting the bags down on the counter and gathering her dirty dishes that were scattered around to stack them in the sink instead.

"Ah, you did remember my name. It's nice to know I left an impression. I'm here because you didn't leave your apartment  _again_ , and I meant what I said about needing an assistant."

"You mean you brought me groceries and dinner because you wanted to offer me a job?" Sarah asked in confusion.

"Well... Yes, I suppose so."

"But I already have a job."

"You hate that job, and they're not doing as badly without you as you might've hoped. Besides, the bank is on the way to that job, and you'd have a panic attack just by walking past it on Monday. Now, I know bribery is probably not the best way to start this, but I just bought my fourth business and I really can't handle it on my own."

"Fourth business? What... What is it that you do, exactly?"

"I predict stock trends, business trends, every kind of trend, really," Honey said, but there was something about her smile that made Sarah think there was something more to it than that.

"Now, would you like to eat or shower first? I'll have to heat up the food, it's been a long walk from  _The Paper Lantern_  to here."

"The new Chinese restaurant on the edge of town?"

"That's the one. Nice place, though I did suggest a few more vegetarian options for their menu. They didn't seem to mind; some places can get quite irate when I suggest changes to their menus."

"I think I might have a shower first," Sarah said; she needed some time away from this woman just to think.

To be honest, she hadn't allowed herself to think of too much since the robbery, preferring to keep her mind blank and carefree for as long as possible, but now with Honey there in her kitchen and starting to go through her cupboards like she knew where everything already was, Sarah didn't think she had the luxury of staying carefree for much longer.

"All right. I'll have everything heated by the time you're ready," Honey promised over her shoulder, smiling brightly at her.

Sarah hurried off to the bathroom to have a shower. While cleaning herself, she tried to think of everything logically, which made her head hurt. Then she tried to think of everything chronologically instead, from the bank to right now, and well, her head still hurt, but not quite as much. She had no idea how Honey knew that she had been contemplating going to the bank today to do grocery shopping, nor how she knew where she lived, or why she was currently in her apartment heating up dinner for her, or even why she wanted to offer her a job. Sarah wasn't a superhero, she was really nothing special even by citizen's standards, and whatever Honey thought about her just had to be wrong. She couldn't be an assistant, she'd  _never_  been an assistant, and really had no idea how to assist in the first place.

Showered, dried, and dressed, Sarah took a moment to inhale deeply. She did this several times before she felt she could go out and face the whirlwind that was Honey. Stepping out of the bathroom, Sarah heard that the TV was on, and Honey was watching The Price is Right, two bowls of Chinese food sitting on the coffee table in front of her.

"I hope you don't mind that I set everything up in the lounge room?" Honey asked, barely glancing over her shoulder as Sarah came into the room.

"No, I don't mind. What did you buy for dinner?"

"Sweet and sour pork for myself, and chicken special fried rice for you. We can either talk in the advertisements, or after the show. Sorry, but I love this show and rarely miss it."

"That show from the 50's?"

"Well, this one's the 70's version and it's better, I promise. Or, it will get better. I haven't decided yet."

Curious, Sarah sat next to Honey on the lounge and watched the show for a few minutes. Her stomach started its earlier protests and Sarah started eating her meal instead. Beside her, Honey only ate during the advertisements because she was rather excited during the show, calling out answers half a second before the contestants. Sarah realised that she alternated between guessing the contestant's answer and the real one, and she was  _always_  right.

"Why aren't you on the show?" Sarah asked during one of the advertisements, awed and in disbelief.

"If I tried, government officials would take me somewhere dark, only to be brought out on their whims and to win wars," Honey replied, her voice sounding far-off and odd. Then she coughed and smiled at Sarah quickly. "Besides, I only do this for fun; I'd much prefer to make money than win prizes on a gameshow."

The show came on again, Honey turning her attention back to Sarah's small screen, and Sarah forced herself to  _think_  again. She came to a realisation as the show began to end: Honey was a superhero. Like the Commander and Jetstream and Sonic Boom and All-American Boy, but at the same time,  _not_. She couldn't hit or fly or yell or jump like they could, but she could definitely do something.

 _Maybe Honey could understand things or guess that certain things would happen?_ ' _Guessing things'_   _didn't sound like something the government would be involved in, though, they would want to be more certain than that, surely? Maybe Honey was like a psychic, and she could predict the future?_

"You can predict the future, can't you?" Sarah blurted out as soon as the show ended.

"Huh, you lasted longer than I expected," Honey murmured. "Predicting it means I'm guessing, when you get right down to it, so no, that's not what I can do. I  _know_  the future, every single version that's possible, and that's more than a psychic can do. If they're not con artists, they may get glimpses of the future, but it's always cloudy and open to interpretation. What I see is very different from that."

"You mean you know what I'm going to do, even before I do it?"

"In a sense, yes. You may have three different options - for example, getting up and doing the dishes, staying here on the lounge, or throwing me out - and I know what happens with each possible future. Of course, there are more options than that, you might decide to change channels on the TV, you might put groceries away, or tidy up, but it's just an example."

"You're a superhero, you're in my apartment, and my apartment looks like a pigsty," Sarah said, eyes wide as she tried to comprehend the fact that a real life super was sitting on her lounge and had just watched  _The Price is Right_  with her.

"Ah, I never said super _hero_. I'm not a villain, I'm not going to go around stealing children's lunch money and kicking puppies, but I'm not exactly going to be the type of person to invited to the next charity gala along with the Commander and Jetstream."

_If Honey wasn't a superhero or a supervillain, what else was there?_

"You saved me from the robbers," Sarah pointed out, thinking of the way they'd shot into the blank blindly and injuring several of the citizens.

"Mostly to protect my own interests," Honey admitted. "Getting rehabilitated for a bullet wound isn't exactly pleasant for citizens, and I had no desire to see you shot over something so trivial as citizen robbers."

"So you only saved me because you want me to work for you?"

Honey nodded, not bothering to argue.

"Why me? I've never been an assistant before, I wouldn't know where to start or what to do. I have a job, and I like it."

"You're loyal and I respect that. You might not have been an assistant before, but you're going to be a brilliant one, and though you don't know it yet, you're as ruthless and self-serving as I am. Banter is something I miss out on with most people, but I know you'll keep me on my toes, even when I think I'm expecting it.

"In regards to your job: you don't actually like it, and the only reason you go to that bland building and put yourself through the boring job day-in, day-out is because you're attracted to Harvey. He's married, has a wife and a little baby girl back in Arizona, but he thinks you'd be easy to keep here in Maxville because he knows you're on your own."

"If you know all that, then why do you even need an assistant?" Sarah asked, getting her defenses up because she hadn't told  _anyone_  about her crush on Harvey, and it was startling to hear that he was married when he'd flirted with her so shamelessly.

"I might know things, but that doesn't mean I organise them very well. I have a tendency to make appointments in my head rather than aloud, so I turn up to places expecting to be seen at a certain time, and usually have to wait for several hours instead. Plus, I'm awful at looking after myself and I tend to let myself stay in visions for days, which really isn't a pretty picture. It gets worse than this," she added, looking at the lounge room which was still in a rather sorry state, pillows and blankets on the ground, along with Sarah's dishes from that morning and the night before (at the very least).

"So, you need a babysitter?" Sarah snarked.

Honey laughed, as if delighted at her rude response, and gave a brief nod. "I guess I do. One that will make sure I eat and drink properly, organise appointments for me and make sure I actually attend them, and whatever else required, I guess. I haven't worked out all of the finer details yet, but I can tell you that the pay is more than double what you're getting now."

"But I already get almost four-hundred dollars a month!"

"I know," Honey replied, grinning. Then her grin faded slightly, and she looked to the clock hanging on the wall. "I'll give you some time to think about it. Go to work on Monday, see if that helps decide things for you, and if you want the job, give me a call," Honey offered, handing a business card to her.

Sarah still wasn't sure what to think about all of this, she still wasn't sure what to think of Honey herself, a woman that admitted she wasn't a superhero nor villain so openly, but she gave a brief nod anyway. She could definitely think about it, at the very least.

"Don't worry, if you decide not to take my offer, I won't bother you anymore," Honey added. "Now, let me wash these up for you. There's enough of a mess that I shouldn't add to it."

"Are you trying to guilt me into cleaning?" Sarah asked Honey as she left with their empty bowls as well as Sarah's earlier dishes.

"Only if it's working," Honey called over her shoulder with a laugh.

 _Well, at least she was truthful_ , Sarah thought to herself.

She sighed and started to pick up her pillows, blankets, and other various things that had been left around. Sarah wasn't usually this untidy, but there had been something comforting about not moving from her lounge to have to go to sleep, and she'd spent most of her week camped out in her lounge room instead of going to bed. Now that she was showered and her apartment was getting clean again - she could see the floor! - Sarah had to admit that there was a certain sense of accomplishment that felt just as good as camping out in the lounge room for a week.

"Hey, nice work in here. I'm going to head off now so I don't get mugged on the way home. Oh, and Mr. Martin should be by in about five to ten minutes. If you tell him you're still traumatised from the bank last week and start crying, he'll let you have until Monday night to pay him your rent. Not that I condone crying as a way of getting out of things, but sometimes it can be useful."

"Yeah, it's... Wait, so you don't get  _mugged?_ " Sarah asked, blinking in surprise.

Honey nodded. "I have to take a certain bus home, and if I miss it, then there will be a few gentlemen that would be eager to keep my purse. Don't know why, really, it just wouldn't match their shoes," she murmured.

"When does the bus arrive?" Sarah asked, looking to her clock.

"Oh, about ten minutes. Don't worry, the lady in front of me will take a while with her change. Unless, of course, it starts raining in the next five minutes and she takes shelter in the diner instead. Hmm, I had better leave now then, just in case. Hope to hear from you on Monday, sweetie," Honey said, picking up her green purse and heading out of the door before Sarah could reply.

"Uh, bye, Honey!" she called anyway, looking to the clock to see that it was 8:25pm.

Sarah continued to clean, looking up to the clock every few seconds and out to the window to see if it had started to rain. A knock at the door startled her, but she remembered what Honey had said about Mr. Martin, so she went to open the door. Behind her, her small novelty clock started to chime that it was 8:30pm, and outside, it began to rain. Sarah felt a cold shiver run through her, realising that Honey might be mugged tonight, and she had  _willingly_  walked out to let it happen. Honey had been right that Sarah was on her own in this state, she had no family left, was still too new and shy to have made any friends, and for all of the blunt honestly and weirdness that accompanied Honey, Sarah already thought of her as a friend.

Mr. Martin shifted uncomfortably when Sarah opened the door crying. He hated to see women cry, and she seemed to be blubbering about honey as she wiped at her eyes and tried to apologise at the same time.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Martin. I just..."

Sarah couldn't tell him the truth;  _how on earth would she explain that she knew her new friend was going to be mugged and possibly hurt over a purse without sounding utterly insane?_

"I'm just still a bit traumatised about the bank robbery last week, and I couldn't bring myself to go back there today. I don't have your rent money, I'm so sorry," Sarah said, crying again even harder when there was a flash of lightning outside.

"Oh. Um. Pay me on Monday night. I'll survive the weekend without it, okay? You'll go to the bank on Monday, won't you?" Mr. Martin asked quickly, needing the reassurance as much as he needed to leave the crying woman alone.

"Yes, I'll make sure of it. I'm really... " she hiccupped here, looking as miserable as the weather outside, "Really sorry, Mr. Martin."

"Not a problem. Just don't make it a habit," he warned; if one tenant skipped rent, then all of them would start.

Sarah nodded, her chin wavering as if she was going to start crying again, and Mr. Martin left as fast as his limping leg would allow. Closing the door behind him, Sarah forced herself to keep busy by continuing to clean, and tried not to worry about Honey.  _Surely if she knew she was going to be mugged, she'd go a different way to avoid it? Was that even possible, to change the future like that?_

Despite her worries and concerns, Sarah fell asleep easily that night, her crying and cleaning and overall emotional week exhausting her to the point where she couldn't have stayed awake to worry even if she wanted to.

...

Sarah woke to hear her telephone ringing, and she stumbled out of bed to get to the kitchen to answer it.

"'Lo?" she said, yawning widely.

"Sarah, it's Honey. I just wanted to let you know that I'm perfectly fine. I decided to have a cup of tea with the nice old lady instead of catching the bus. Much pleasanter way to spend my evening than being mugged."

She was still tired and her brain wasn't quite awake, but Sarah was so relieved that she actually flopped against the kitchen counter and let out a huge sigh.

"Thanks for letting me know, Honey. It would've driven me insane with worry."

"Oh, not quite, but close enough. Enjoy your weekend. Sorry for waking you early, but you'll have to be fully awake for the next phone call."

"What phone call?" Sarah asked, but didn't receive a reply. "Honey, who's calling me? You're the only one that knows this number. I'm not even listed with the operator yet!"

"I know. The call's coming in about half an hour. Wake up, have something to eat, and stay calm. Oh, and on Monday, don't deny it, use it."

Sarah would have asked for more clarification, but Honey hung up and all she heard was the dial tone. Hanging up her phone, Sarah turned her kettle on and started to make breakfast. She could worry about it for the next thirty minutes, or she could do as Honey suggested and wake up properly to deal with whatever happened.

Thirty-two minutes later, Sarah's phone started ringing. She answered it, trying to stay calm and not have her heart leap out of her chest, but it definitely felt possible.

"Hey, Sarah, it's Harvey. I thought I'd call to see how you were doing. Are you all right after the robbery last week?"

Of all the people she'd considered that might be calling her - everyone from her boss to say she was fired to her hairdresser to her dead mother to say she was alive ( _hey, if Honey could know every future possible, why couldn't reanimating the dead be real too?_ ) - Sarah certainly hadn't expected Harvey.

"I'm still a little traumatised by it, but I'm starting to cope. I might even be able to make it to work on Monday," Sarah replied, hoping for a little humour, still wondering how on earth Harvey had her home number.

"I can imagine. Hey, did you want to talk about it some more in person? I know you don't have many friends around here, so I thought it'd be nice if we got to know each other a little better. I can show you around town, we can have dinner, see where the night leads us."

Sarah tried not to make her shudder obvious over the phone. It wasn't the worst pick-up line she'd heard, but for Harvey to have her phone number and to try to use the bank robbery as a way to get her into bed - especially when he was married - just made it downright creepy.

"I'm actually heading out for the weekend. Going to Arizona, in fact. You travel so much with the company, have you been there before?" Sarah asked.

"N-no. Why would you think that?" Harvey asked quickly, and Sarah could  _hear_  the nerves in his higher pitched response.

"Oh, you were telling me a few weeks ago how you've been to every state in the US, I thought Arizona might've been one of them, since, y'know, it is the sixth biggest state in the country."

"Uh, no. I've got to go. I'll see you on Monday," Harvey said, hanging up before Sarah could reply.

"Yeah, that just  _screams_  'innocent' and 'not married', doesn't it?" Sarah muttered at the dial tone, hanging up.

Feeling quite proud of herself for staying calm during the call, Sarah decided to leave her apartment for the day. Maybe she'd be able to make it further than her floor's corridor this time. Besides, she really had to go to work on Monday, and she had to get used to leaving the apartment again. Sarah was positive that she would get cabin fever if she stayed indoors for the eighth day in a row, especially now that everything was clean and there was nothing else she could use as an excuse to stay inside.

Determined, Sarah grabbed her handbag and headed towards her front door. She ensured she had her keys and purse before leaving, and held her breath as she headed to the building's elevators. Making it all the way outside, Sarah was a bit red in the face and forced herself to breathe again. The fresh air was much nicer, and she took a moment to breathe in deeply before heading in the opposite direction to the bank. It would take her to the park, a nice place that had recently been opened by the Commander and Jetstream at the request of the Mayor.

The day was nice, the sun shining, the sky blue with only a few clouds, and Sarah was surprised to find her Polaroid camera sitting in her bag. She was certain she'd left it in her apartment, not in her bag. Still, the weather was too nice to take it back home, and a fete had been organised to celebrate the new park, so she took photos of the stalls that were being run, people that were milling around, a young child with a bright red balloon tied to her wrist. A few of the stall owners took photos of her, Sarah managed to turn her camera around to take a couple of herself in front of the fairy floss stall (the first two were awkward angles of nothing more than her forehead, but she got the hang of it), and by the end of the day, the bottom of her handbag was filled with a myriad of photos.

Exhausted by her day out, Sarah barely managed to throw together a dinner that wasn't two-minute noodles (she could no longer find the last packet, and had a feeling that Honey had thrown it away). She watched  _The Price is Right_  and thought of Honey as she tried her best to guess the answers for herself, and later that night when her eyes were drooping closed, Sarah tucked herself into bed and slept peacefully.

...

On Monday morning, Sarah had a mini panic attack as she passed the bank on the way to work. She forced herself to run down the street instead of standing there, doubled over and feeling nauseous, and Sarah made it to work much earlier than she intended.

Over morning coffee, Ruby, one of the women she worked with, asked Sarah how she was feeling after the bank robbery. She answered truthfully, and Ruby seemed interested enough that Sarah felt brave enough to tell her about the fete and even show her a few of the photos that were still lying in the bottom of her bag. Ruby liked them enough to get a few of the other women in to look at her photographs, and Sarah felt that maybe she could make some friends after all.

Then Harvey came in with the men, all of them chuckling and surrounded by their usual haze of cigarette smoke. He looked over at her and smirked, saying something to one of the other men, and they all laughed uproaringly again.

"What's so funny, Harvey?" Ruby asked curiously.

"Just telling the guys about the day I spent with Sarah. Ain't that right, baby?" Harvey asked, smirking over at her again.

"W-what?"

"You know, you rang me up on the weekend, begged me to take you out, and then I took you to bed."

Sarah's mouth dropped slightly at his implication, and around her, despite the pictures they'd just seen proving otherwise, a lot of the women started to move away from her.

"You've told everyone that we've had sex together?"

"Oh, you're not even going to deny it?" one of the other men asked, chortling.

Sarah's mouth snapped closed, and she wished that she could slap Harvey so hard his teeth fell out of his head. She wondered what she'd ever seen in him anyway.

"You know what, no, I'm not. In fact, we spent almost a full day together, didn't we, Harvey?" she prompted, getting a smug grin and nod in response. "Well, Harvey was so nice over lunch, he bought me a wine, nice food," she said, getting another grin and nod, "Then when we got back to the hotel room, he wanted me to spank him and call him a bad baby, and he asked to call me  _Momma_  while I fucked him with a dildo in the ass."

" _What?!_ " Harvey roared, face going from pale to red. "That's... I did  _not!_ "

"You mean you didn't have sex with me? Or you did? 'Cause that means one of us is lying,  _baby_. In fact, we could call up your wife and Arizona, and ask her what  _she_  calls you during sex, if you'd prefer?"

Harvey glared at her, the other men no longer laughing, and stormed off. When he was gone, Ruby laughed so hard she almost dropped her coffee mug.

"Oh, wow, he's not going to let you get away with that one, Sarah," Ruby said when she finally stopped laughing.

"I know. I didn't have sex with him though, and he's a dickhead for saying otherwise," Sarah muttered.

"He's always been a dickhead; he's tried to sleep with nearly all of the women that work here. You're not the first he's done this to, unfortunately, but all the men believe him over us," Edith added, sighing.

"They might not be so believing of everything anymore," Joan snickered. "I'm going to start calling him  _baby_ , see how he likes it for a change."

Not all of the women agreed, some of them even glaring at Sarah, but she no longer cared. Harvey was a dick, and Honey was right: she really did loathe this job. It was a shame, because she thought she might actually have made some friends out of it ten minutes ago.

"Ms. Silverton, a word in my office, please," Mr. Thick called, Harvey standing next to him looking smug.

"No need, Mr. Thick, I quit," Sarah called back, smiling pleasantly. "I'd prefer not to be sexually harassed by a man who has a dick as small as my lipstick, anyway," she added, just to watch Harvey splutter and choke on his smug smile.

All right, she wasn't the nicest person in the world, so maybe Honey was right about that too.

"You'll regret this! I'll make sure you never work in this town again!" Harvey snarled as she grabbed her things from her desk.

"Actually, I already have another job, and it makes double what you're earning, you cheating bastard," Sarah replied, all too happy to rub that in his face as well.

"Language, Ms. Silverton!" Mr. Thick demanded, his face as red as his tie.

"I'd be happy to translate into whichever language you'd prefer, Mr. Thick. Spanish, perhaps?" she asked sarcastically, putting the last of her personal things in her large handbag and heading towards the exit. "Or would you prefer sign language?" Sarah offered, sticking her middle finger up at Harvey as she passed by.

There was more spluttering behind her, some laughing and even a few cheers, and then the door closed behind her. She doubted she'd be getting a final paycheque from this company if they could help it, but Sarah couldn't bring herself to care. She left the building, headed to the bank where she still had to stop and breathe deeply before entering, but made a withdrawal and left again without anything happening.

Seeing that the local cinema was open, Sarah crossed the street and paid a few dollars to watch  _Benji_ , which had only recently been released. She got caught up in the storyline and, blissfully, didn't have to think about her work, life, or anything beyond the story of a little dog trying to rescue two kidnapped children. Sarah couldn't quite figure out how they'd managed to stay kidnapped, considering the children were able to teleport, but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

Leaving the cinema to find it was still light out, Sarah had to blink several times to adjust, and her stomach protested for food. She headed home via a diner, spending just as much time watching the people around her as she did eating her food, and by the time she arrived home, it was mid-afternoon.

She paid Mr. Martin, who seemed surprised to see her in the middle of the day, but was glad that she wasn't crying anymore, and headed up to her apartment. Sarah called Honey to let her know that she accepted her job offer.

"Good, I was worried you'd stayed after all."

Sarah shook her head, even though Honey couldn't see, and detailed everything that had happened. Honey was pealing with laughter within minutes, and had to beg off the call so she could go to the bathroom, her laughter still coming through the phone anyway.

"We should go out to celebrate. Invite Ruby, Edith, and Joan. Joan will probably say no because she'll be looking after her baby, but she'd want to be invited anyway."

"All right, where do you want to meet?"

"Oh, give me a minute," Honey said distractedly, thinking of the various places that were around town. "French Noir, on Righten Drive. They're not too bad. Depending on tonight, I might even consider buying them."

"Just how much money do you have?"

"Enough to pay you triple Harvey's wage, buy the club, and still be comfortable."

"Wow."

"I'm just getting started, sweetie," Honey said with a laugh. "Now, you'll be tempted to wear the red dress, but go with black; Edith's clumsy when she's tipsy."

"All right, thanks for the tip," Sarah said, shaking her head and wondering if she'd ever get used to that.

"You're welcome. See you tonight at 6pm, okay?"

"See you then," Sarah said, hanging up before picking up the receiver once more to call her Ruby's number at work.

Ruby and Edith accepted, and Joan had to back out, but promised to come to the next catch-up if she could get more warning. Sarah grinned, excited that she'd finally made friends that were willing to spend time with her, and went to her room to get ready for what she was sure was going to be a great night out.

...

Honey greeted Ruby and Edith as if she'd known them all her life, and Sarah tried not to laugh when she saw their surprised expressions, sipping at her cocktail instead.

"Sarah's very observant, and has told me all about you," Honey explained when Ruby questioned her about knowing about Joan's baby.

"We only found out about Joan's baby today. Seems she didn't want Mr. Thick knowing, or he'd fire her. How'd you know about it, Sarah?" Edith asked.

"Like Honey said, I'm very observant," she replied with a shrug. "Drink?"

"Oh, yes, a margarita, please. Then you can tell us all about your new job," Edith said, patting her arm.

"Or was that just a lie to rub it in Harvey's face? He was sulking all day," Ruby snickered.

"It's true all right," Sarah said with a grin.

"In that case, I'll have a red wine."

"I haven't been paid yet, you know," Sarah said, even as she headed over to the bar to get their drinks.

She returned in a few minutes, their drinks ordered and paid for, and sat on the stool across from Ruby.

"All right, now spill. What's your job, and how do I get one?" Ruby asked, grinning.

"It's a personal assistant job, I'll be organising appointments, helping businesses be bought, that sort of thing. It's still a new position in the company, but I'm hoping it'll be there well into the future. To be honest, I'm not sure there's another one like it: being offered the position certainly was a surprise to me," Sarah added, as truthfully as she could.

"Hmm, sounds good. Let me know if there's something else out there, okay? I'd rather not be working for Mr. Thick for the rest of my life," Ruby muttered.

"You won't be," Honey said certainly.

Ruby laughed, a little sour, then shook her head. "And what makes you so sure about that?"

"'Cause I'm pretty sure your future husband just walked in the door."

"What are you... ooh," Ruby trailed off, seeing the man that had just walked in.

"I hear Chicago's nice this time of year," Honey prompted, then nudged Ruby off her stool.

Ruby still seemed a little dazed by the man's appearance, but she wasn't the type of woman to back down from a challenge, and she headed straight for him. Sarah watched curiously as Ruby laughed and flirted with the man.

"Think you could do that for me, too?" Edith asked, grinning at Honey.

Honey looked at Edith for a long moment, not even pausing when their drinks were brought over, and eventually Sarah got worried enough that she nudged Honey to get her to stop. She came out of her state with a slight cough and an embarrassed smile.

"Sorry about that, I got caught up... Edith, do you really want me to find you a  _husband_?" Honey asked, her voice soft yet clear, despite the noise in the club.

Edith paled abruptly, her hand trembling so viciously that she spilled her drink, the liquid pouring off the edge of the small table and on to Sarah's lap.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry! Let me... just...  _Shit_."

"Don't worry about it, I'm wearing black, it'll wash off easy," Sarah said, dabbing at her lap with napkins.

Edith didn't seem to hear her, still looking pale and straight at Honey, who gave Sarah a slight nod towards the bathrooms.

"Right. I'll be back soon," Sarah said, heading to the bathroom.

She looked back to see Ruby laughing with her new friend, and Honey talking with Edith quietly, hand resting over hers gently. Sarah cleaned her dress the best she could, and by the time she made it back out to the club, Ruby and the man had already left. Edith looked ready to leave, but was waiting by the table with Honey.

"I just wanted to say thank you for inviting me out. It's been life-changing," Edith said with a broad grin. "Also, I'm sorry about your dress."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Where are you heading, then?" Sarah asked curiously.

"Ah, a bar down the street. It's ladies night, if y'know what I mean," Edith said, blushing slightly and still looking a bit nervous.

"Oh, all right. Have a fun night. We'll have to catch up again some time, okay?"

Edith nodded firmly, then gave Sarah a quick hug and headed out of the door.

"She's going to be much happier with Ariel than she ever would have been with John," Honey murmured, sitting down on her stool again.

Sitting across from her, Sarah watched Honey for a moment. "Did you do this on purpose?"

"What?"

"Get me to bring my new friends here so you could get rid of them?"

Honey didn't seem offended by her question, and just shook her head. "No. I told you, I'm not a hero, but that doesn't make me the villain either. If Ruby and Edith had stayed in tonight, Ruby would've been stuck working for Mr. Thick until he died, and then she'd be working for Harvey, which would be even worse. Now, she's going to move to Chicago with a man that will love her and be supportive of her working, and she'll end up becoming one of the most successful female attorney's in the state.

"Edith would've started dating and eventually married John, who would've realised that his wife was more interested in his sister than him and beat her for it. She would have been miserable, and unable to have children after he hurt her to the point where the doctors had to give her a hysterectomy just so she'd survive. Now, she's going to meet Ariel instead, they're going to spend the next sixty-eight years together and they're going to be happy. Depending on a few decisions in Edith's life, she'll either keep working for Mr. Thick or she'll end up with his job. I'm thinking it'll be the latter.

"I changed their futures slightly with a few words and maybe a literal nudge out the door, but it was for the better."

"And doing that helps you in someway?" Sarah guessed.

"Huh, you are observant after all," Honey said, grinning. "If I change people's futures from the main thread I've seen, then I get the residual energy that their old life leaves behind. Keeps me charged, I guess you'd say."

"So, you changed Ruby and Edith's futures to... feed off the futures that they no longer have?"

"It sounds creepy when you put it like that, but essentially, yes."

"So... What did you change in my future when you met me in the bank?" Sarah asked curiously.

"I stopped you from being killed in at least three different scenarios," Honey replied.

"Three? But, how?"

"If I hadn't come in, one of the robbers would have stayed guarding you all and seen the arrival of the police and Sonic Boom. He would have become nervous and threatened to shoot hostages instead of giving up, and you would have offered in place of another woman with a child; in another, you would have ducked too slow and the glass from Sonic Boom's blast would have impaled you in several major arteries; and in the final showdown when the robbers started shooting out of the vault randomly, you would have tried to escape and been shot. Overall, you would have had a hard time surviving that day if I hadn't shown up."

"Sounds like I would've died no matter what."

"There were a few scenarios where you would have been saved, but they were few and far between. It's almost as though you were destined to die on that day, and I stopped it from happening. I'm curious to see how this changes your future."

"It's probably going to be boring, just so you know."

"With me around, I seriously doubt that, sweetie," Honey said with a laugh.

Sarah didn't doubt her for a second.

...

The end.


	8. Real villains

Ethan liked to read books with different book jackets on them. Someone might think he was reading about Calculus or Geometry really intensely, but instead he'd be reading 'how to maim, torture, or kill a person in 500 ways using only kitchen utensils' and they'd be none the wiser. Ethan tended to rest against Zach while reading, and though some of the pictures turned his stomach, Zach couldn't help but read along as well. So, really, it wasn't his fault that he knew 30 ways to kill a person with a spoon (53 if it was a spork).

It's these sort of things that Zach thought about on his way to save Ethan. His boyfriend was definitely no damsel in distress (in fact, the damsels that Zach did know certainly weren't capable of being distressed either, not unless they wanted to be, but that's another story), but in this case it seemed that Ethan had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sure, he'd just gone grocery shopping at the same time Airborne and Shifter were in the store, but it was enough.

Zach remembered the CCTV footage; Airborne and Shifter had  _requested_  Ethan's help with their multitude of shopping bags, and then stuffed him in the trunk of the car alongside their groceries. Somehow, no one had witnessed a thing, and no one knew where they'd gone. He hoped that Ethan had eaten all of their food in retaliation.

People like Airborne and Shifter, who were inherently good and thought everyone else in the world had a glimmer of good in them too, were naive  _idiots_. They were probably talking to Ethan, trying to make him see the error of his ways, to make him join their side, but Zach knew Ethan better than that. He would never leave him, never leave the life they'd built together, and nothing those two goody-two-shoes could say or do would change his mind.

Glancing to the GPS on the seat beside him, Zach realised he was coming up on Airborne and Shifter's hideout. He was in the middle of Maxville's suburbia, and it seemed that stupidity ran in the family, because Airborne had his Secret Sanctum underneath his house, just like his parents had. That was how they had died, despite moving house after Layla and Warren became Poison and Fire. Moving house was a smart move, but building another Secret Sanctum underneath their new house was stupid. Layla still had her job at the council and could access those kind of records, but it was Warren's job at AAA Contractors that had confirmed where the Stronghold's were holed up, and they'd been dead before their sanctum had finished being built.

Zach looked out to the street around him. It was quiet, the sun setting and most people already inside for the night. An older woman across the road was looking out of her front window to his car. Zach gave her a broad smile, then placed his hat on his head and got out of the car a moment later. He locked the car before heading up to Airborne and Shifter's home, glancing back over his shoulder briefly. The woman was no longer at her window, and with a smirk, Zach turned back to the door and knocked on it sharply. He heard voices a second later, Airborne and Shifter having a whispered argument that wasn't quite whispered, and Zach breathed in deeply to stop from laughing.  _This was going to be so easy_.

"Who is it?" Shifter called a second later, her voice close to the door and probably looking out of the peephole.

Zach held up his badge to the small peephole. "Excuse me, ma'am, we've had a report of a noise disturbance from this residence. Can I come in, please?"

There was another not-whispered argument, and Zach heard Airborne flying off, presumably to deal with Ethan. A minute or two later, the door opened and Magenta looked out warily.

"Sorry, officer. We were playing a movie, it must have been too loud," Magenta lied quickly, then she frowned at him, taking a moment to recognise him after not seeing him for almost five years.

He was older now, not quite as bright, especially not in his police uniform, and Zach was glad that she didn't recognise him straight away; it might have complicated things. However, by the time Magenta did recognise him, Zach had already made his way inside, closed the door behind him, and started glowing a specific sequence to knock Magenta out. She didn't even get time to call out to Will to warn him, slumping to the ground with a loud thud.

Will returned a few seconds later, frowning when he saw Magenta out cold on the floor. He didn't even bother trying to hide his power, flying towards Zach with his fist pulled back for what would be a knockout blow. Zach glowed again, the sequence changed and faster, and Will seized in mid-air for a second before he fell to the ground, his body spasming. Zach took a moment to regret that Will hadn't fallen right on top of Magenta, then stepped over their bodies to head in the direction Will had come from.

 _He'd left the sanctum open_. Zach was so surprised and stunned at Will's stupidity that he had to stand there staring for a moment before he could get over it. The number one rule for secret sanctum's were to keep them  **closed**  -  _hadn't Will learnt that after the events in his freshman year at Sky High?!_

Sliding down the pole into the secret sanctum was easy, and considering there was a jar filled with liquid sitting right there on the table, it didn't take long for Zach to find Ethan. He unscrewed the lid and tipped Ethan out onto the ground carefully, watching as he reformed slowly. He must have been kept in that jar since they'd taken him because the process took Ethan almost three full minutes, and he looked exhausted when he was in human form again, sliding down to sit on a chair.

"What the hell took you so long?" Ethan demanded, glaring up at him.

"Good to see you too, Eth," Zach said, crouching down to check Ethan over for any injuries.

"I've been stuck in that jar for two whole days, Zach. I should've been out in two  _hours_."

"You would've been out in two fucking minutes if you'd let me put a tracking device in you like I asked months ago!" Zach snapped.

"You shouldn't need a tracking device to find me, damn it! You didn't this time," Ethan pointed out.

"That's because Airborne and Shifter are incompetent and are still listed in the damn phone book! If you're taken again by someone who is actually competent, I might... I might lose you, Eth, and I can't let that happen," Zach said, looking down and trying to stop his body from shaking and his tears from falling.

"Hey, hey," Ethan murmured, tone softer now as he cupped Zach's face and tilted it up so he would look at him again. "I'm all right. They're incompetent, like you said, and I'm fine. You found me, and when I'm better again, I'll get the Professor to put in a tracking device, okay? You can too; I can't lose you either," he added, wiping at Zach's tears with his thumbs.

Zach bit his lip, focusing on the pain, and nodded. He pulled Ethan into a hug, then kissed him so hard their lips would be swollen and red for hours to come. Ethan looked perkier when Zach finally released him, and took Zach's hand in his own to hold.

"I hope you're feeling well enough for revenge; I bought a new cutlery set," Zach said with a grin.

Ethan laughed and let Zach lead the way back upstairs to where Airborne and Shifter were still unconscious. The two heroes were about to become very well acquainted with the way  _real_ villains worked.

...

The end.


	9. Phoenix

The quality of the video was poor to say the least, but considering the store had installed the security system in the 1980's and hadn't updated it since, it was hardly surprising. Detective Alan Fisher looked away from the grainy picture on the computer screen to look at his partner, a young thing that probably wasn't even a month out of the academy.  _It wouldn't be long before he asked for a transfer, just like the other new recruits the Captain had tried to saddle on him over the years_ , Alan Fisher thought to himself. Knowing this, he hadn't bothered to remember the kid's name; he'd be gone sooner rather than later, anyway.

He could tell just by looking at the kid just how nervous he was, his first real investigation, and barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Instead, he just nodded at the boy to start reading from the notebook in his trembling hands.

"The details we've managed to gather so far have all said the same thing: Shifter, aka, Magenta, the fiancée of Airborne, a.k.a, William Theodore Stronghold, was lured to the music store by Poison, a.k.a..."

"We know who they are, pick one pseudonym to call them by, stick with it, and hurry up," Fisher muttered at the boy.

He blanched slightly, then nodded and quickly looked to his notes once more. "Poison lured Shifter to the music store, and they left after a few minutes of talking."

In the video, Poison was talking to Shifter. There was no sound with such an old surveillance system, but the police force had used lip-readers to transcribe what was said. Fisher didn't bother looking at the notes; after pouring over them for the last two days, he already knew what they were saying.

Poison was excessively polite with her words, her expressions all looked spot on - from the worrying bite of her lip to the fearful widening of her eyes - but it was the split-second expression she had when leaving with Shifter that made Fisher's blood run cold. She let Shifter out of the store first, and as Poison closed the door, she looked directly at the camera and  _smiled_ , her expression cold and calculating despite the turn of her mouth.

The video quality improved slightly as it changed to the street camera following them outside. They were still talking, Shifter animated with her words, and Poison's arms wrapped around her body as if she was afraid to make any movement that could result in a hand to her face. For the next ten minutes, the video switched between four cameras - ATM, another street corner, speed camera, a grocery store across the street - following their progression through Maxville until they arrived at the scene of the crime.

Fisher could see the exact moment Shifter realised that something was wrong. She stopped in front of the gate to the Botanic Gardens, her eyes widening as she looked at Poison. She must have seen the cold look in Poison's eyes that she had sported earlier, and tried to run. It was ridiculous to attempt it, which was made obvious in the next second when the hedge that doubled as the wall for the gardens grew to an enormous size and swallowed Shifter whole.

"That's the last time anyone saw Shifter alive and that was almost three days ago. We've destroyed the hedge since then, but there's been no sign of her."

Fisher nodded to his partner, indicating for him to shut up now, and thankfully, the boy seemed to get the message.

There was a knock at the door, and it opened at Fisher's grunt to reveal their precinct's Chief of police.

"We've got a call from Chaos; they're stating their demands. Chaos have specifically requested you, Fisher," the Chief added, looking to him with as much confusion as Fisher felt.

Standing slowly, Fisher tried to think of Chaos' reasons to request  _him_. Despite his years on the force, he wasn't the most senior of staff, nor the one who had the best track record. His temper and inability to let cases go had led to a bout of alcoholism, compulsory anger management sessions, and a rehabilitation stint that had only made him less patient with people on a whole. His past six partners had all requested to be relocated within months of working with him; one memorable pipsqueak hadn't even lasted a full day.

Unable to think of a reason, Fisher followed the Chief out of the room, his new partner hurrying to catch up with them.

Stepping into the room, Fisher was surprised to see that the call was actually a video call, and the Chaos duo were both clear on the screen. Neither one was wearing a mask, which made Fisher wary; they either thought that they wouldn't be caught, or more worryingly, that there was no need for a mask because they knew that they would win against Jetstream and the Commander whenever their inevitable showdown began.

"What do you want me for?" Fisher asked.

Poison simply smiled, as if his blunt tone was amusing rather than hostile. "It's not what we want you for; it's what you want us for," she replied pleasantly.

"We have Shifter and if you don't find us by midnight, she'll die. Trust me when I say that hers will be a slow, agonising death," Fire added with a smile.

"Most of my department's already looking for you, what makes you think you won't be found?"

"We never said anything about  _them_ , Fisher. We specified for  **you**  to find us, not the others in your department," Poison said, smiling.

"We'll even be generous and let your little sidekick help you try to find us," Fire added, nodding to Fisher's partner with a smirk.

"You'd better hurry. The ten hour deadline begins at two o'clock sharp," Poison said.

Fisher looked up to the clock - it was five minutes to two! - and by the time he looked back down at the screen, the video call had ended. Not caring what emotional management class his Chief put him in, Fisher cursed loudly and heatedly.

"Get going, Fisher. You too, rookie. You've only been given a small window of time," the Chief said, overlooking his cursing; hell, he felt like swearing himself.

Still cursing, but now under his breath, Fisher left the room, his partner in tow.

"Where are we going, Fisher?" the kid asked curiously.

"The music store, where it all started."

...

There wasn't much to find, every piece of the store had already been searched with a fine toothed comb by the rest of the force. By the time Fisher and his partner appeared, a thin layer of white dust covered everything, and the kid spent most of his time coughing miserably into a handkerchief.

"Useless," Fisher muttered to himself, tempted to throw something or drown himself in a bottle.

"Why'd Poison choose the music store?" the kid asked, frowning.

Fisher blinked, the question not occurring to him earlier. "Good point, kid. There are other places closer to the Botanic Gardens that'd serve as neutral territory."

The kid seemed to brighten up at Fisher's unexpected praise and looked around hopefully, as if the new thought would magically make the answer appear.  _He obviously had a lot to learn about the real world_ , Fisher thought to himself, shaking his head.

Despite his own thoughts, Fisher walked around the store once more, trying to think of  _why_  Poison would choose this place. The owners of the single storey music store were planning on closing down, considering most people bought or downloaded music online, but that hadn't been public knowledge and there were no signs in the window to advertise its closure. In fact, looking out of the front window now, Fisher could see that a lot of the surrounding stores had posters or signs advertising sales or low prices in store, and nearly every window was blocked in some way. The music store was the only one that didn't have that sort of thing on the front window, allowing passersby to see directly into the store where the internal area was covered in posters and advertising instead.

"Poison needed the window to be clear. Has anyone canvassed the area to see if Fire was seen?" Fisher asked, looking over to his partner.

"Everyone was focusing on Poison and Shifter," the kid replied, flipping through his notes to double-check.

"Poison is rarely seen without Fire - there's a reason they're called Chaos as a duo, not separately; has anyone checked surveillance records for the surrounding stores?"

"Only the ones that followed Poison and Shifter towards the Botanic Gardens."

"We need surveillance footage from the three stores across the road that see directly into this place," Fisher said, leaving the music store to cross the road.

The kid hurried after him, tucking his handkerchief and notebook away in his pockets.

...

Three and a half hours into his ten hour deadline, Fisher was scouring through footage from the hole-in-the-wall restaurant across from the music store. His partner was looking at the footage from the small greengrocers. Unfortunately, the footage from the third store's security camera hadn't revealed anything about Poison, Fire, or Shifter.

"C'mon, Fisher. Let us handle this; you won't be able to meet Chaos' deadline," Tyrone said, sitting on the edge of Fisher's desk and smirking down at him.

Tyrone had been one of Fisher's former partners, and Fisher found that the only way he could deal with the self-serving, narcissistic bastard was to tune him out completely. However, his new partner hadn't dealt with Tyrone before, and he took the bait easily.

"Chaos said for  _Fisher_  to find them, not  _you_. Although, if you think you're God's greatest gift to detective work, why aren't you out there looking for them yourself?" his partner snapped.

Fisher was surprised at the kid's response, and by the expression on his face, so was Tyrone.

"You obviously don't know who you're talking to, rookie, but let me tell you this: talk to me like that again, and you'll regret it," Tyrone snarled, standing and leaving abruptly.

"Tyrone's not the kind of person you want to get angry, kid; he's got friends in high places. Better to keep your mouth shut where he's involved," Fisher added, even though he did kind of appreciate the kid sticking up for him.

The kid scoffed. "I've dealt with worse than that slimy little worm; I can handle myself."

"At the academy? They're nothing compared to - " Fisher trailed off, catching a glimpse on his screen. He frowned, rewound for a few seconds, and watched the footage again. "There he is."

"You found something, Fisher?" the kid asked eagerly, looking over the top of his computer to where Fisher was seated.

"Fire. He was in the store across from the music store, watching Poison and Shifter," Fisher replied, frowning when he saw Fire stand and leave after a few minutes. "Bring up the footage of Poison and Shifter, see if there's some sort of signal Poison gave him to leave, or if he just followed them."

Thankfully, the kid didn't ask many questions and was pretty good at following orders; he had the video up in a matter of minutes and they both watched as Poison and Shifter talked in the music store, Fire sitting in the hole in the wall across the road.

" _You have to help me, Shifter. Fire... He's hurting me, forcing me to stay with him and do all of these horrible things to these poor innocent people. I can help you and Airborne defeat him, but I need to get away first_ ," Poison said, eyes wide and flinching back when Shifter reached out to touch her.

" _We'll help you, I promise_ ," Shifter said, withdrawing her hand with a look of anger at Fire's treatment of Poison.

Poison crossed her arms over her chest and turned away, and in the second video, Fire stood up and left the tiny restaurant.

" _Fire's not at the hideout now; he said he had errands to run for the afternoon. I've got things there that I need to beat him. I couldn't bring them with me now, it was too obvious. Can you... I know it's a lot, Shifter, but we used to be friends, and I just..._ " Poison broke off, tears in her eyes.

Shifter edged closer and hugged Poison gently. " _I'll help; whatever you need._ "

Poison sobbed for a few more seconds and then pulled away, wiping her eyes. " _I need your help to get some things out of the hideout before he comes back. Will you call Airborne when we get there to carry them? It'll be easier to use the tracking device on your phone when we're already there._ "

" _Of course. Let's go now before Fire gets back_ ," Shifter suggested, and Poison nodded timidly in return.

Poison led Shifter to the doorway, looking up to the camera with that cold expression that still sent a shiver up Fisher's spine before she followed Shifter outside.

"You saw the signal, didn't you?" the kid asked, grinning and as eager as Fisher hadn't been in years.

"Yeah, kid, I saw it. Calm down before you get Tyrone back over here," he muttered. "We know there was a signal for them, but that doesn't give us squat. No one's been able to get a position on Shifter's phone either, so that doesn't help. Let's see if the footage shows where Fire went," Fisher said, rewinding the footage again, but this time to look past Shifter and Poison to the restaurant across the street.

He watched as Fire stood and left, the supervillain not hesitating as he turned and walked down the street, past the very same cameras that Poison and Shifter's progress followed mere minutes later.

Fisher swore, scrambling to find the footage to focus on Fire's progress rather than the two women instead. It wasn't much help at first, the footage already edited to what they thought they needed, but then Fisher recognised Fire in the ATM camera, and saw that his path deviated from Poison and Shifter's. While they headed straight towards the Botanic Gardens, Fire went into one of the side streets. None of the camera views pointed towards the side street, so Fisher and his partner would have to go there for themselves.

"Found something, rookie?" Tyrone called mockingly as they left.

"Yeah, your dick. We're heading to the lab to see if they can see it under a microscope," the kid called back, not even hesitating as he flipped Tyrone the finger on the way out.

Fisher considered learning the kid's name after all.

...

"Fisher! I'm a reporter from Labyrinth; is there anything you can tell us about Shifter's kidnapping? What are Chaos' demands? Why did they request you specifically?" the reporter asked, shoving a recording device into Fisher's face.

"Hey! Back off! Who've you been talking to?" the kid demanded, glaring at the reporter. "Did Tyrone call you?"

The reporter grinned broadly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Tyrone, huh?"

"Hey! Ignore that; the kid's new. C'mon, we've got  _actual_  work to do, not stand around harassing people who're doing their jobs," Fisher snapped at the journalist, taking his partner's forearm and practically dragging him down to the car.

The kid looked abashed when they were seated in the car, and Fisher kept silent until they were out on the main road.

"Didn't you learn anything in the academy, kid? They oughta teach you how to deal with press in that place," Fisher muttered. "You don't confirm or deny  _anything_ ; it ain't your job, and the PR department will wipe the floor with your shiny new uniform if you fuck things up for them! Even silence can be confirmation to those vultures, so just say 'no comment' and keep fucking walking past 'em," he snapped, irritated by the journalists now more than he ever was.

_Damn Chaos for singling him out!_

"And  _never,_ ** _ever_**  say anything off the record. It always has a way of coming back to bite you on the ass," Fisher added as a final warning.

The kid didn't start crying, thankfully, but he took a while to respond, focusing on his breathing instead. "Sorry, Fisher. Won't happen again."

"Good. Now, keep an eye out for that side street, I forgot the name of it," Fisher lied, hoping to make the kid feel better.

"Water Street," he replied immediately, looking out of the car window intently.

...

Five hours into his deadline, Fisher was walking up and down a side alley trying hard not to breathe in the stench from the garbage skip that was in the middle of the alley. His partner had a handkerchief pressed against his face again, looking close to throwing up at the smell.

Fisher looked up, silently asking for strength, and grinned when he saw a camera's red light blinking at him from the coffee shop, a direct line of sight to the alleyway. "Kid, see if you can get footage from that camera," he called over to him.

His partner nodded, relieved to be leaving the smelly alleyway, and Fisher almost envied him his departure. When he was out of sight, Fisher looked at the numerous doors in the alley, wondering which one Fire had used. The footage from the grocers was obviously focused more on internal shoppers rather than pedestrians outside, and the footage had been edited for Shifter and Poison, not Fire's progress.

He walked up and down the alley one more time, noticing padlocks and heavy bars on most of the doors. Taking out his phone, Fisher rang his direct line to the station so someone would answer.

"Maxville Police, Detective Fisher's desk; this is the Chief of Police," the Chief answered.

"Chief, I wasn't expecting you," Fisher replied, wishing that anyone - even Tyrone - had answered his phone instead.

"We had an anonymous tip on Chaos, most of the department's following that up. What do you have, Fisher?" the Chief asked bluntly.

"According to the street cameras and footage, Fire was in the area at the same time as Poison and Shifter. I'm in ... Water Street, where he was last seen, according to the footage. I need to know who these stores, buildings, and apartments belong to. Either Fire and Poison own one of them, or someone's aiding and abetting them," Fisher said.

"I'll have someone on it straight away. You'll be contacted with the information as soon as possible," the Chief promised. "You're almost six hours into your deadline, Fisher. Do you need anything else?"

"Yeah, my new partner... What's the kid's name?"

The Chief didn't seem to take his question seriously, because Fisher was listening to a dial tone a second later.

While he waited for his partner to return, Fisher thought about the first time he'd seen Fire and Poison on screen. They'd fought Earthstone, a large bulking superhero made of rocks. The superhero had had an impressive record, second only to Airborne in villains defeated. Everyone expected Earthstone to win, as he usually did, and even Fisher himself had been tempted to turn off the TV, already certain of the outcome, but he'd found himself watching the fight intently instead. Earthstone had fought as he often did, smashing and roaring in an effort to distract and capture his opponents, but the tactics didn't work as both Poison and Fire dodged his large fists and, as seen on a close-up of their masked faces, had stuffed their ears to lessen the impact of Earthstone's loud roars.

Poison had wrapped him in several thick vines, but before Earthstone could even attempt to break free of the confines, the vines had buried their way in to his body, dividing the stones and disappearing as though they'd never even been there to start with. It had startled most people, and Fisher distinctly remembered feeling nauseous at the thought of those vines burrowing their way into him. The fight continued in earnest until most people forgot about the vines, and then, when it looked as though Earthstone might actually win, his grip firm around Fire and making the supervillain's face turn a shade somewhere between red and purple, Poison  _laughed_. It was a chilling laugh that made Fisher's stomach turn all over again and the cameras focused on the laughing supervillain in time to catch the cold expression on her face, the same expression she wore only a few days ago when leading Shifter away.

Before their eyes, Fire began to heat up, literally. His hands caught fire, the flames racing up his arms and across his torso, down his stomach to engulf his legs and up past his shoulders and neck until he was completely aflame. No one had even had time to question each other what they thought he could do, since everyone knew that it took an immense amount of heat to harm Earthstone, because as soon as Fire was wrapped in his flames, the vines buried in Earthstone forced their way to the surface and caught fire. Encased in his body the way they were, Earthstone had no way of ripping the vines out without damaging himself, but even still, he tried to do exactly that, tearing the vines and his own body to pieces as he screamed in the all encompassing flames.

In his mind, Fisher could still see Earthstone's lifeless form, shifting back to nothing more than a frail and freckled redheaded young man, probably no older than his new partner, and at that moment in front of his TV, it felt as though the world itself fell silent for the superhero's demise.

Chaos had disappeared as Earthstone died, departing as suddenly as they'd arrived despite there not being a vehicle or jetpack in sight. There were news stories, with flora experts coming on TV to talk about the vines Poison had used -  _Chalice Vine, extremely flammable and poisonous if ingested, and probably the main cause of Earthstone's inability to fight back_  - and a minute's silence for the late superhero. People talked in hushed whispers for days afterwards, claiming to have seen this or heard that, but nothing came of it, and people of the world returned to their usual lives eventually. Just when people thought they might be safe, that Chaos had died in a fire of their own creation, they returned with more villains behind them.

"Got the footage, Fisher. Did you find anything?" his partner asked, hurrying over with a tablet in hand.

"All of the doors are locked, some with padlocks. Either Fire and Poison own one of these buildings, or someone helped Fire escape," Fisher replied. "You sure the footage is on that thing?" he asked warily.

"Yeah; the store upgraded their security a month ago, so they can transmit via wireless."

Fisher had no idea what that meant, but the kid seemed to know what he was talking about, and they both went silent as the footage loaded on the screen. People milled about on the street, the weather nice considering it was nearing winter, and Fisher pulled his jacket in close around him at the reminder with today's bitter wind. It took him a moment to recognise Fire in the crowd. He was surprised to see how well Fire blended in, despite being tall enough to tower over most people. Fire glanced to the street behind him, presumably to where Poison and Fire were still walking, then headed into they Water Street alleyway. People walked in front of the alleyway and Fisher blinked when Fire just  _wasn't there_  when the people had passed by.

"Where'd he go?" his partner asked, frowning and replaying the last half a minute.

Again, Fire walked into the alley and Fisher watched the top of his head carefully, the only part he could see of the supervillain. He heard a soft noise and looked from the video to his partner.

"Does that thing have sound too?" he asked.

"Oh, uh. Let me see," the kid replied, fiddling with some buttons on the side of the device.

Almost immediately, they could both hear chattering and a roar of traffic that definitely wasn't a reflection of the present. Again, the last thirty seconds were replayed and Fisher watched Fire's head once more, listening carefully. He heard a scraping noise, barely audible over the people's noise and traffic, but it was definitely there. Fire's head disappeared completely, again with no indication as to which door he might have entered. Fisher walked up and down the alley once more, looking from door to door intently.

"What're you looking for?" his partner asked curiously.

"Metal doors or coverings. There's a scraping noise in the video, one that's only made by metal on concrete, and that grocery store doesn't have a concrete floor," he replied, certain despite not seeing any doors with metal guards.

In fact, the only metal thing in the whole alleyway was the garbage skip. Fisher hurried over, the kid following after him curiously.

"Help me move this thing out the way," Fisher said, struggling to budge the heavy container.

His partner pushed as well and the skip bin moved inch by excruciating inch. Fisher was covered in a sheen of sweat by the time it had moved enough to reveal another doorway.

"You really think Fire moved that in the time it took people to walk past the alley?" his partner asked between wheezing breaths, handkerchief dabbing at the sweat on his forehead.

"He doesn't have super-strength like Airborne, but Fire is stronger than most men," Fisher replied. "You remember him destroying Leadweight, don't you?" he asked, recalling the event from almost six years prior, a year or so before he and Poison had teamed up.

Fisher vaguely remembered the sidekick Fire had had back then, and something niggled at the back of his mind. His partner scoffed and stood up, drawing his attention back to the present.

"Of course I remember that! I'm not  _that_  young, geez, Fisher," he muttered, moving beside him to look at the revealed door. "Do we go in?"

"You kidding, kid? We're not supers who can go into any place they like, consequences be damned; we need a warrant," Fisher replied, already taking his phone out to call the precinct.

Chief answered the phone again, sounding a touch frustrated at the task, and Fisher frowned. "Where's Kelson, Chief? Shouldn't he have answered the phone for you?" he asked, referring to the Chief's assistant.

"You rang your own line and Kel's in the kitchen. Where are you?" came the blunt response.

"Still at Water Street. I've found a hidden doorway that Fire may have used to escape. Any chance of getting a warrant this late in the afternoon?" Fisher asked, looking at his watch; almost six hours into his deadline, and night was fast approaching.

"I'm sure someone will be available for Airborne's fiancée," Chief deadpanned. "I'll have Kel organise the warrant for you; Carmel should have compiled the list of owners for Water Street apartments and businesses by the time you arrive. Cordon off the area so no one will contaminate it, and organise the nearest unit to cover it until you return."

"Yes Chief," Fisher replied.

The kid had heard the Chief's instruction and was already radioing the nearest unit to Water Street by the time Fisher had hung up from the call. Unfortunately, Tyrone was the closest to their position.

"Need someone to hold your hand, rookie?" Tyrone snickered over the radio.

"Need someone to help you find your dick, Tyrone?"

"Fuck you, rookie."

"Not if you were the last dick on earth," the kid replied cheerfully, ending the radio call abruptly.

"You realise that everyone at the station probably heard that, the Chief included?"

His partner shrugged and gave a grin. "Might give them some entertainment until we get back for the list of people and warrant." He paused and sighed, looking back to the alleyway again. "You sure we can't go in there?"

"You itching to be a superhero, kid?" Fisher asked.

"Nah," he replied with a laugh. "I just want this over. I mean, Airborne's fiancée is probably terrified, right?"

Fisher frowned at his tacked on response that seemed more of an afterthought than anything genuine. "Probably. You know when this is over, we've got a mountain of paperwork to do, right?"

The kid winced. "Damn, I forgot about that. My boyfriend'd love it," he added, grinning. Then his eyes widened and he looked to Fisher warily.

"I don't care who you love, kid. I just don't want details. Didn't want 'em from Jimmy about his wife, nor Carmel about her husband and kid, or Mia and her wife; I ain't gonna change and be wanting details from you now," Fisher added.

"No problem. Can you not tell the others, though? Tyrone'd be a bastard about it."

"You got it, kid. Come on, not much we can do here; I'm going to need a coffee if we're going to be following these breadcrumbs for the rest of the night," Fisher muttered, heading over to the coffee shop that was tucked between the grocery store and a hair salon.

...

Half an hour later - six and a half hours into his deadline - Fisher was back at the station, the kid chattering away beside him. Hindsight was a bitch, and apparently, the kid on caffeine was even worse.

"When we get the warrant, can we go storm the place then? How long do we have to wait? Is there anyone that's got a battering ram, like in that movie? Do we get SWAT, too, since they're supers?"

"Are you all right, Fisher?" Chief asked, looking between him and his partner meaningfully.

The kid finally stopped talking, though Fisher would've sworn that the kid was actually vibrating with the effort.

"Fine, Chief. Did Kelson organise the warrant?"

"Yes," Chief replied, handing him a signed warrant. "Carmel has the list for you, as promised. You might like to look it over before you go  _storming the place_ ," he added, glancing to Fisher's partner briefly, the kid flushing red as the Chief passed by to go back to his office.

"Hey, rookie, did you get lost on your way to the lab?" Tyrone sneered.

Fisher paled, turning to look at his colleague. "Why're you here? You're meant to be at Water Street!"

"I just got back from dealing with an anonymous tip about Chaos," Tyrone replied, too surprised at Fisher's response to be his usual egotistical self.

"Then who... You..." Fisher said, unable to complete a coherent thought. "Tyrone, someone might've stolen your car. Go check the lot," he said, and Tyrone left without questioning his reasoning. "Shit, c'mon, kid, we've got to get back to that alleyway. Wait, grab that list from Carmel, I'll meet you at the car," he said, rushing as fast as his old body would allow.

"Who's Carmel?" he heard the kid ask someone as he left.

 _God damn rookie_.

...

Seven hours and fifteen minutes later, Fisher and his partner were back in Water Street. He sent his partner to secure the area, not wanting any civilians trapped, harmed, or used as hostages if the supervillains were still in their hideout.

Tyrone's car was gone, the obnoxious red vehicle as obvious as the man himself, but now neither were to be seen. The police tape still cordoned off the alleyway, the skip bin still pushed aside to show the doorway, but even from the alley's entrance, Fisher could see that the door was wide open now. A chill ran up his spine that Fisher couldn't blame on the cold winter air, and he had a vague dread of what he and his partner would find inside.

"Fisher! God dammit, Fisher, answer me!" Tyrone's voice came over the radio, angry and loud.

"What is it, Tyrone?"

"Where the fuck is my car, Fisher?"

"Well, about an hour ago, it was here at Water Street. Someone fed that anonymous tip to the station to get everyone out; looks like whoever stole your street was a super, since they looked and acted just like you," Fisher replied, sighing heavily.

He vaguely looked over the paperwork Carmel had given them, tuning out Tyrone's ranting about his car and supers in general. Fisher frowned when he saw the same name appearing on several ownership papers for the surrounding buildings and apartments.

"Fuck. Me and Monty will be there in fifteen; hold until you get there," Tyrone snapped, his tone and words enough to make Fisher listen again.

"I've already got a warrant, Tyrone. Me and the kid are going in," Fisher replied, but there was no response.

"There's no one in the area; most of these stores close up around nine, and it's already half past that now," his partner replied, looking to his watch.

"Good. I'll be going in first, you stick behind me, and keep an ear out for anything you think sounds suspicious," Fisher said.

His partner nodded firmly in response, unclipping his holster and drawing out his gun.

"And don't shoot  _me_ , dammit," Fisher added, heading up the alleyway towards the open door, with his partner a step behind him.

Fisher stopped on one side of the door, glancing in quickly. Across from him, his partner did the same thing, then gave a firm nod. He had to trust that his partner was correct, that the coast was clear, to put his life in another person's hands, and Fisher inhaled to steady his nerves as he stepped into the dark doorway, gun and flashlight both raised.

The supervillains hideout was stereotypically dark, lights flickering overhead uselessly now and then, and from the smell of it, the place was damp as well. The odd flickering made it difficult for Fisher to see much and his flashlight only provided so much light at a time. Behind him, the kid's flashlight wasn't helpful either, the damn thing flickering even more than the lights overhead.

"Either fix your flash or turn the damn thing off," Fisher hissed, voice as soft as possible.

"Sorry."

There was a brief smack of the kid's palm against the flashlight, and the light flickered back to life properly. It still didn't help much. Before Fisher could go through the next doorway, the lights overhead switched off completely and his flashlight flickered and died. He smacked it as the kid had done, but nothing happened. He pressed the on/off button a few times, but the light was as dead as Shifter if he didn't get a move on.

"Fisher?" the kid asked, voice high with worry.

"Quiet, kid. We don't know who's in the dark," Fisher replied, voice rough and soft.

"Right, sorry," his partner whispered.

From outside, they could both hear a screech of sirens.  _That'd be Tyrone and Monty; subtle as ever_ , Fisher thought. It was probably the first time he'd ever been glad to see Tyrone.

Looking behind him, Fisher waited and watched as two flashlights flicked into the darkness surrounding them. He wasn't entirely sure what made him look, but there was movement to the side that Fisher was positive wasn't the kid. He kept his eyes on the spot in the darkness, and on the next flash of light from Tyrone or Monty, Fisher saw what had moved. It wasn't a person, not Fire or Poison or even Shifter as he might have expected, but instead, it looked like a large vine. Large vines covered the wall, which attributed to the damp smell, and Fisher had been so focused on looking into the doorways that he had barely paid attention to the green patterned walls.

"Shit, it's a trap. Kid, Tyrone, Monty! Get back!" Fisher cried out, just as a vine shot out from the wall and wrapped around him.

Vaguely, Fisher heard yelling from the other three, but the vine covered him so completely that the noise was blocked sooner rather than later. He struggled to breathe, the vine tightening around him, and then just when Fisher thought his lungs might explode from lack of oxygen, he fell unconscious.

...

When Fisher woke up, he thought he was dreaming because he was obviously floating on clouds as there was no such mattress in the world that was as soft as  _this_. He could feel pain though, scratches from the vine that had wrapped around him, so maybe it wasn't a dream after all. He blinked his eyes open slowly, sitting up carefully, unsure of how stable the cloud-like substance was beneath him. A bed of flower petals, he realised, looking down. Well, it was definitely one of the weirder things he'd slept on in his life.

"Careful, Fisher. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself after we've gone to such pains to keep you alive," Fire said, smirking at him from across the room.

Fisher's whole body tensed at being so close to the supervillain, every part of his body screaming that the person across from him could only mean danger. It was a physical response that most citizens had when faced with supers, hero or otherwise, but at least with heroes, the general public knew they weren't going to die.

"Calm down, we're not going to kill you," Fire said, rolling his eyes and pushing off the wall to walk over to where Fisher was sitting. "You want anything to eat? Drink? We've got nearly everything, so long as you don't mind vegetarian food."

Fisher shook his head, trying to ignore the sharp pain that accompanied the action. "Where's the kid?"

"Safe. So is Tyrone and Monty, though Tyrone might not stay that way if he keeps hitting on Poison the way he is."

"Didn't peg you to be the jealous sort," Fisher replied, a little surprised, especially after that business with Lustful.

"Oh, I'm not. I'm far more secure than that," Fire said with a smirk. "Poison however, hates being objectified, and Tyrone is just  _this_  side of being a misogynist dickwad with no sense of self preservation."

Fisher gave a short laugh. "Doubt that'll ever change."

"Probably not, which is why you shouldn't be surprised if Poison kills him later."

"Later? I'm being kept around, then?"

"Something like that," Fire said, shrugging.

"Why would you need a human pet? An old man with no claws or bite," Fisher asked with a laugh.

"A human pet? Definitely not. We both know you're more than that."

Fisher frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Now, now, Fisher, there's no need to keep up pretences with us," Fire said with a smile and left the room without another word.

Fisher listened as the door was closed and locked, then stood and walked around the room to ease his aching body. His watch had been taken, so he had no idea what time or day it was, and there was no window to help him determine if it was day or still nighttime.

He thought over Fire's words some more, focusing on the things he'd said about his colleagues rather than Fire's departing words. Poison was obviously dealing with Tyrone, but what about the kid and Monty? Fire had assured him they were safe, but did a supervillain's word really hold that much weight in the grand scale of it all?

Fisher sighed and sat back on the bed of flower petals, deciding that Fire's word was all he had to go on for now. The door opened and a woman stepped inside with a tray of fruit and a glass of water, the door closing shut behind her firmly.

"Who're you?" Fisher asked, curious and wary. He'd never seen this woman associated with Poison nor Fire before.

The woman smiled brightly. "My name is Honey. I thought you'd be thirsty or hungry, despite what you told Fire, so I brought you a drink and some food."

"Honey," Fisher echoed, trying to remember where he'd heard the name before. Realisation dawned and he stared at the voluptuous woman. "You're Honey Olgestein; you own most of the buildings in Water Street."

"Actually, as of next week, I'll own all of them," she replied confidently. "And in three months' time, I'll be Honey Harrison," she added, Fisher noticing the engagement ring as it flashed in the light.

"Congratulations," Fisher said, feeling awkward because this woman was probably helping Chaos and therefore could be considered one of his captors.

"Thank you," Honey replied with a broad smile that made Fisher wonder just why a woman as sweet as her seemed to be helping supervillains.

"Are you a super, like them?" he asked as she set the tray down on the flower petal bed beside him.

The petals didn't even waver and the tray stayed where it had been placed. If Fisher survived this, he wanted to ask Poison for a bed like this because it was kind of amazing.

"Yes, although not as powerful as Chaos are. That doesn't mean you should underestimate me," she added as an afterthought.

Fisher shook his head, not daring to do such a thing when any kind of super was involved, hero or otherwise, and took a piece of fruit from the tray. Honey stayed with him while he ate and drank, but despite the hundreds of questions that he had, Fisher stayed silent and forced himself to finish instead. He didn't know when he'd be fed again and didn't want to become malnourished. When Honey didn't seem inclined to move even after he'd finished eating, Fisher tried to think of the questions in a logical form, and which one might actually be answered.

"Is Shifter still alive?" he asked.

"Yes. Airborne will arrive soon enough, thanks to the tracking device on your phone."

"So, I was simply the bait? Shifter and the whole elaborate kidnapping and ten hour time limit was nothing more than to bring Airborne to Chaos?" Fisher asked, a little annoyed at being treated in such a way.

"Not entirely. Chaos also wanted to see if you could find their hideout. Security measures will take place to ensure that it's not so easy for the next person."

Fisher noticed that Honey didn't say that he would be the next person. "Are they going to kill me?"

Honey seemed amused at his question, and finally stood, taking the empty tray and glass. "I think we both know the answer to that, Fisher."

She turned the light out as she left, locking the door behind her. Sitting in the darkness, Fisher decided that now would be a good time as any to sleep. He sighed and settled down on the flower petal bed, his brain turning over the events of the last week since Shifter had been kidnapped.

Just as he was thinking that he'd never be able to get to sleep for his brain continued to replay the last four days on repeat, Fisher fell asleep.

...

Fisher was woken by the door opening and light turning on, and he blinked wearily, only for his body to fill with adrenaline, every cell and fibre of his being shouting ' _danger!_ ' at the realisation that Poison was standing in the doorway. He sat up as fast as possible, eyes wide and certain that she'd come to kill him.

"Relax, Fisher. I'm not here to kill you," Poison said, rolling her eyes. "I thought you'd like some company, so I'm taking you to your colleagues. Oh, and ignore Tyrone, the gag's temporary."

She left without waiting, leaving Fisher very confused, wary, and still a little tired on top of it all. He'd had a surprisingly good sleep on the petal bed, but it hadn't been long enough for his old body and mind. Poison looked back in the room, frowning over at him.

"I understand you're old, Fisher, but I'm positive you can move faster than that. Come on now."

He stood and followed her, wary of getting too close to the poisonous vines and flowers that twisted through her hair. They were just as much a part of Poison as her natural red locks, though in the beginning, some fools had thought that they were fake and part of her floral persona. He'd been proven wrong, blue-black veins stark on the screen as he was killed by her flowers and vines' poisons.

Fisher followed Poison through the doorway to see Tyrone hanging from the ceiling by a vine, a large yellow flower protruding from his mouth. Tyrone whimpered and tried to call out to Fisher when he saw him, but the words were muffled. It must have caused him pain to talk, because tears rolled down his cheeks, trekking down to join the trail of blood that seeped out of his mouth.

"Don't worry, he'll live. Hopefully with fewer comments about women and their bodies," Poison said, voice sweeter than her namesake and just as deadly.

Tyrone whimpered again. Monty wasn't strung up to the ceiling, thankfully knowing better than his partner when to keep his mouth shut, but he was seated on a chair made from a thorny vine and from the pool of blood beneath him, the thorns hadn't been retracted from the seat itself.

"Did Monty say or do something to offend you as well, Poison?" Fisher asked, hesitant at how she might respond.

"He insulted a dear friend of mine, actually, which is close enough," Poison replied off-handedly. "Now, please, sit down," she said, indicating to the couch rather than creating a vine seat for him as well.

"Where's my partner?" Fisher asked, sitting down slowly and hoping no vines would come out to ensnare him.

"Oh, he's fine. In fact, here he is now. Blaze, please explain to Mr. Fisher that we're not as evil as the media portrays us; I do believe he thinks we mean to kill him."

Blaze - whoever he was because it certainly wasn't his partner's name, no matter that Fisher actually couldn't remember his name - snickered and walked into the room behind him. He was tempted to turn and see, but then the newcomer walked around to face him instead, and Fisher was confused beyond belief to see his partner, his arm slung around the shoulders of a dark young man that Fisher swore he recognised as well.

"Kid?"

"Blaze, actually. Well, if you'd remembered my name, you'd know me as Zach, but 'kid' works for whoever you want to forget in a hurry, right?" he replied, grinning.

Fisher turned his attention to the kid's boyfriend. "You're that reporter from earlier! You... you said you worked at  _Labyrinth_ ," he added with a frown as he tried to recall all of the details from that brief meeting.

"Oh, I do," the man replied brightly. "I'll be reporting on the crime of the century in tomorrow's early edition."

"I'm confused, honestly. I don't know how I fit in with this, or what you expect me to do," Fisher said, looking from the two men to Poison and Fire, who had walked in moments ago.

"You know exactly what you're here for, Fisher. And we can either do this here and now, or later when Airborne arrives with his camera crew," Poison replied.

Fisher looked over to where Tyrone was still hanging from the roof and Monty was still seated on his sadistic seat, then to the four supers. "Do they need to be here?"

Poison looked between the two men for a moment, then to Fire beside her. They seemed to come to some sort of agreement, because seconds later, two vines pulled up through the ceiling completely, the wood parting and reforming as if they'd never even been there. In fact, if not for the blood stains that remained, Fisher might have thought he'd imagined it all.

"Where's Shifter?" Fisher asked, almost desperate to know whether the woman was still alive or not. He guessed that they'd keep her alive until Airborne arrived, but Fisher doubted he'd be alive to see for himself.

"Honey is taking care of her. She's not been harmed," Fire replied.

"Well, not much. I do get very offended when people insult those I care about, and Shifter had quite a lot to say about the few I do care about," Poison added, shrugging.

Fisher nodded, not sure what else he could do, and sat up, preparing himself to die.

"You need to relax, Fisher. We're not going to kill you, really," Blaze promised, looking amused at his determination.

"But I don't... I don't understand why else I'm here," he replied, beyond confused.

"Would one of you get Cee in here before I have to drag him here myself?" Poison muttered, looking to Blaze and his boyfriend.

"I'm here, no one needs to drag me anywhere," Cee said with a laugh.

"I should've killed you years ago," Poison said, though her voice lacked any heat or conviction.

Cee just snorted in amusement and made his way around the couch to face Fisher. Unlike Blaze's boyfriend, Fisher had no idea who this person was. Cee hummed under his breath and grabbed Fisher's wrist tightly, his eyes closing as  _something_  passed between them. Then Cee opened his eyes again and Fisher watched in shock as the man's face changed to become an exact replica of his own face.

"Whoa, man, you're like super old," Cee said, standing and laughing at his joke. "Now, Poise, think about what you're gonna do, 'cause this might not actually - "

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence because Poison was suddenly wielding a sword and cut his head off in one swift move. Blood spurted from the decapitated neck, and Fisher watched in horror as his body's replica fell forward onto the floor. Fire grabbed Cee/Fisher's head as Blaze and his boyfriend lifted the body. Fisher stared as Fire placed the head back on the body, watching as the skin knitted back together without a trace of damage. It was like he hadn't even been decapitated at all. Fisher touched his own neck, eyes wide, stomach churning.

"Damn it, Poise, at least let me finish talking!" Cee muttered, Fisher's features slipping away to his own once more.

"We'd never get to testing it, then," Fire taunted with a smirk.

Poison ignored both of them, turning to face Fisher instead. "Just how old are you, Fisher? The records we have only start in the 8th century, but you were already old then, weren't you?" she asked.

"How..." Fisher started, his hand sliding away from his neck as he suddenly felt every bit his age. "How did you know?"

"The accident six years ago; you were one of four people to walk away unscathed. The other three are with us, so we knew that there was something special about you. Molten is a fantastic researcher, and you're not quite as good as hiding as you thought you were."

"The invention of the camera must have really frustrated you," Molten, Blaze's boyfriend, said sympathetically.

"I thought it would be a passing fad, but I was wrong. Unfortunately, it happens more than I'd like," Fisher murmured, shaking his head. "What are you going to do with me now that you know the truth?"

"Well, Molten probably has hundreds of questions for you, but we're going to let you go. After we've defeated Airborne though; it would be a shame to have you caught in that crossfire," Poison added.

"What about the others? They're not supers," Fisher said, looking up to the ceiling where Tyrone and Monty had disappeared.

"They'll be returned with their memories wiped. Unless Tyrone offends me again," Poison added with a shrug. "They're not your concern, and neither is Shifter anymore. Honey will take you back to your room. I suggest you wait there until someone comes to get you."

Feeling weak and still shocked to see himself decapitated in such a way, Fisher was quiet as Honey led him back to the room. She departed with a kind smile and again, Fisher wondered how she'd become caught up in all of this.

...

Some time later, Fisher's door opened. He expected Poison or Fire, or even Honey again, but instead he saw Airborne standing there, hands on his hips and covered in spandex from neck to toe. He was also hovering in the doorway and had splatters of blood on his outfit.

Fisher remembered when Captain Stronghold had been the reigning superhero of the day, and his son, The Commander, after him. The Commander and Jetstream were still considered the best, despite Airborne's efforts to surpass the shadows he had risen in. As Fisher stood to join his rescuers, he wondered if he would live to see Airborne and Shifter's child take over their reign as well. After all of this time, living, dying, and repeating the process all over again, century after century, Fisher only doubted the child rather than his own continued existence.

"Are you all right, sir?" Airborne asked, cape fluttering behind him. Shifter was glancing down the hallway with a frown, her purple hair bright in the light above.

"Fine, thank you. I've been treated well," Fisher replied. "Are they alive?"

Airborne dropped a few centimetres, his concerned expression falling way to a brief moment of grief. "No. They're... The villains have been defeated," he said formally, fiercely.

"How many?" Fisher asked.

Airborne seemed surprised at the question. "Uh, five."

"Who? Quick, boy, who did you defeat?" Fisher snapped when Airborne just stared at him in utter confusion.

"Lay- Poison, Fire, Molten, Blaze, and Honey."

"How did you kill them?" Fisher asked, waving the superheroes out of his way so he could walk briskly down the hall.

"Crushed sternum for three and broken neck for two," Airborne replied, still confused and hesitant, but now sounding a little sick as well.

Fisher guessed it was the first time he'd had to kill someone who'd been a friend. He doubted it would be the last time.

"You're going the wrong way; the exit is the other way," Shifter said, reaching out to grab his shoulder.

"Don't they teach you anything?! You  _always_  check the bodies are dead before leaving," Fisher snapped, shrugging off Shifter's hand and continuing down the hallway.

Fisher arrived at the same room as before, stopping short in the doorway as he saw the carnage that had taken place. He could see Poison's broken body, Fire lying beside her, and across the room were Blaze and Molten. Honey was nowhere to be seen, Fisher realised vaguely as he made his way through the room to where his partner lay with a broken neck.

"We have to get out. Please, Will, I don't feel safe. Something's wrong," Shifter whispered urgently, looking in to the room where Fisher was standing staring at Zach's body.

Will nodded reluctantly, giving the old man a final look before he grabbed Magenta and flew them down the hallways and towards the exit. He could see daylight at the end of the hall, but the door slammed shut abruptly, and Magenta cried out in surprise. Will came to a complete stop, looking around for another exit. The only way was up.

"Hold on," he warned Magenta, creating a fist before flying upwards to break through the ceiling, plaster raining down around them.

Blinking out the plaster and debris from his eyes, Will realised that the ceiling had led to another floor, and they weren't free yet.

"Please don't go through this ceiling as well; it would be a shame to ruin  _two_  floors," a woman said from the side.

Will and Magenta both looked over, frowning at the unknown woman in confusion. She simply smiled back at them and before either one could say anything, Will was plummeting back down to the ground, Magenta slipping out of his grasp. They both screamed and crumpled when they hit the floor.

"Glad to know the forcefield works; that thing was expensive," Poison muttered from beside their unconscious forms, pressing against her tender sternum.

"I'm more glad to know Fisher's DNA worked," Blaze quipped, rotating his neck slightly.

"You and me both," Fire muttered. "Fisher, in thanks to you, you get to leave without being harmed  _and_  we'll let you save one of their lives."

"Wh-what?" Fisher stammered, eyes wide.

"Airborne or Shifter?" Blaze asked, grinning.

"You... I can't... I'm not," Fisher stopped, looking from the two unconscious superheroes to the supervillains surrounding him. "What's to stop me from coming back here?"

"Nothing, but we won't be here," Honey replied from the floor above.

"Come on, old man. Shifter or Airborne? We've got things to do," Cee - Carbon Copy - said impatiently.

"Patience, Cee. You should know better after being in the body of someone as old as the Earth itself," Poison reprimanded lightly.

"Sorry, Poise."

"Shifter," Fisher said, interrupting their conversation.

Poison seemed surprised at his choice, but Fire nodded in understanding. "You think that Airborne will have a better chance of surviving or escaping."

Fisher shrugged. "He might, might not. It's not for me to say."

"You're right though," Poison said, looking to the two fallen superheroes. "You can take Airborne."

"What was the point of me choosing then?" Fisher snapped.

His throat went dry when Poison glared at him, but her expression faded to a smirk. "This way, every time you see or hear about Airborne or Shifter, you'll know that you could have saved her," she said, sweet and sadistic.

Fisher nodded briefly, not wanting to offend Poison further. Fire picked Airborne up easily and led the way to the exit, Fisher following after a moment.

"Hey, Fisher?" Blaze called. "Why'd you stop being Phoenix? I've seen your work; you could've saved the world."

Fisher sighed, the heavy and wearisome sigh of a man who had seen too much and lived far too long, and turned to look at his former partner. "I decided a long time ago that the world no longer deserved to be saved."

"You might reconsider that view in a few years' time," Honey said from overhead.

As he walked away with Airborne's unconscious body being carried out before him, Fisher seriously doubted it.

...

A few years later, Chaos controlled the world completely and utterly. Walls made of thick dense vines and foliage were constructed between countries and even some states, but despite the confinement, life flourished. Some people thought that it was a cruel irony that their best chance of freedom lie in walled confinements, but most people accepted their new lives for what they were.

Fisher no longer knew what to think. He was fast approaching his rebirth, his limbs too weak and heart too tired to continue with this bodily form for much longer.

As his last hours approached, Fisher found himself reconsidering his view, just as Honey suggested he might. He wondered just how different his life would be this time around.  _Perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as he'd originally imagined it would be?_

Fisher took one last breath and then his body lit up in a fierce flame that he doubted even Fire could withstand. The flames consumed him entirely, destroying his body and leaving behind only what was needed to start his life anew.

As the flames died down completely, Chaos moved into Fisher's bedroom and looked down at the tiny child, curled up and innocent and somewhat sooty.

"He looks like a raisin."

"Newborns generally look like that, Poison."

"Been around a lot of newborns, have you?"

"If you two can make a decision, I'd like to get this done sooner rather than later. We're here for a reason, remember?" Honey asked pointedly.

Fire and Poison looked at the newborn, then each other, and finally turned to face Honey. "He's yours and Simon's."

"What? I thought Wendy - "

"Wendy's already got Gwen. You and Simon have wanted a kid for ages, and who better than a super like him?" Fire asked.

"Simon will," Honey trailed off, eyes focusing on the near future. "Be surprisingly supportive of this decision. You two already discussed it with him, didn't you?"

"We might have mentioned it in passing," Poison said, smiling. "Now, grab your kid and let's get out of here."

Honey was quiet as she approached the newborn, hand outstretched and trembling. The baby opened its eyes, blinked at her, and smiled happily at its new mother. This life was already looking better than the last few centuries combined.

...

The end.


	10. Lust for revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This features the same original character, Lustful, from 'Lustful'

The light started to fade from the sky, purples and pinks filling the sky as the sun sank on the horizon, buildings stretching shadows and cooling the city below. It wasn't long before people started escaping those same buildings, finished work for the day and eager to leave. From the top of Banks and Livingstone Lawyers' building - the tallest building in Maxville - Poison watched as the tiny figures rushed and pushed past one another in their desire to get home.

There was movement beside her, and Poison looked over at Lustful, smirking slightly when she saw her blissful expression and kiss-swollen lips. Fire had obviously been keeping her occupied and powered up.

"Ready, Lustful?" she asked, pressing a kiss to her mouth.

Lustful sighed contently as she pulled away, licking her lips gently. "That should be enough now, Poison. This'll be  _fun_ ," she said, smiling so broadly that her lips cracked with the motion, drops of blood forming on her perfect bow lips. Lustful licked them away, then looked over the edge of the skyscraper to the people below, as if to determine just how to ruin them all individually.

Poison looked to where Fire was resting against the stair exit, looking exhausted. He'd done the most work to keep Lustful powered up. Though Poison had offered, they both knew he had the stamina and patience that Lustful needed. Poison smiled at him, stepping carefully across the roof to sit beside him, taking his hand in her own.

There was no warning, no sound, and then a bright red haze enveloped Lustful, the wave of power extending and plummeting downwards, travelling through each of the skyscraper's fifty storeys to the street below, spreading out to the individual people and ensnaring them all.

Lustful laughed at the sight, some people already eager and undressing, while others were taking a bit longer and somewhat confused. It wouldn't take long for them to join in the fun. She watched, feeling her power coerce these innocent people until they no longer were quite so innocent, and when the final person's resistance slipped away, the orgy on the street really began. Lustful sat on the edge of the building, resting her chin in her hands as she watched eagerly, squirming at the loud moans and desperate cries for release.

"I take it they're ready?" Poison asked at her shoulder.

Lustful started in surprise; she'd forgotten about the plan! She offered an apologetic smile to Poison, hoping that would be enough for her forgiveness. Poison raised an eyebrow, then kissed Lustful again, nipping at her full bottom lip harshly.

"Next time, don't forget," Poison said.

Lustful nodded quickly, licking her sore lip. "I won't. Are you sure that's enough people? There might be more a few streets over," she offered.

"It's enough, Lustful. You can rest now, we'll get you when it's over," Fire offered, stroking her cheek gently.

She leaned into his touch, like a cat arching up to be petted, and then relaxed as they both stepped off the edge of the building, plummeting down towards the ground even faster than her wave of power.

As they fell, Fire used several fireballs to heat the air and slow their descent. Poison released some seeds, a wave of hot air from Fire pushing the seeds down faster so they would hit the ground first. As soon as the seeds touched pavement, they sprouted and spread giant leaves, stalks rising up into the air to wind around Poison and Fire, slowing their fall to a gentle stop. Poison let her power recede from the plants, returning them back to small seeds, and used a vine to pick them up in a matter of seconds.

"Ready for this, hippie?" Fire asked, looking away from a particularly athletic threesome happening a few metres away.

"Ready. You?" Poison asked, her question punctuated with several screams of release from the writhing mass of bodies before them.

Fire grinned, a bright heart-melting grin that reminded Poison of a time years ago. "I was  _born_  ready."

Poison couldn't agree more. She took his hand, and together, they walked through the crowd of kissing, touching, sucking, biting, licking, grinding, orgasming, fucking people. Thankfully, Lustful's power didn't affect the ones that helped create it, but on this scale, it was similar to walking through a mist of syrup. Once they were as close to the centre of the mass of bodies as they could be, Poison and Fire let go of each other and turned to face the crowd.

Just like Lustful, they offered neither warning nor sound of their intentions. One moment Poison and Fire were looking at the crowd calmly, and the next, vines and fireballs shot forth. People were choked or poisoned with vines, climbers, and creepers; others were set aflame or burnt alive. Poison and Fire were methodical and ruthless, leaving nobody alive, even as most reached climax as they were dying. The pleas for sex were soon exchanged for screams, but Lustful's hold over these people was too strong for them to even try to run away. Burned and poisoned, over 250 people died in a matter of minutes.

When they were certain they were all dead, Poison and Fire walked into Banks and Livingstone Lawyers to deal with the other citizens caught inside.

When Poison and Fire returned to the roof twenty-nine minutes later, Lustful was lying on her back, legs dangling over the side of the skyscraper. She smiled at them lazily, her eyes hooded as power thrummed through her body, her fingertips caressing against her skin gently like a lover might. On the roof surrounding her were several hundred glass jars, all full of the same red mist that she'd released earlier. Poison and Fire walked among the glass jars carefully, making their way over to Lustful, who was humming softly now.

"Have fun, Lustful?" Poison asked, smiling down at her.

"Oh, yes. I barely managed to capture it all," Lustful replied, sitting up, letting her head settle for a moment before standing. She took Fire and Poison's offered hands with a smile, stepping back down onto the roof among her jars.

"Do you have enough for yourself as well?" Fire asked, looking from the jars to Lustful's pale form.

"More than enough to last me for several months. Maybe even a year, if I suddenly decide to be frugal," Lustful quipped, laughter in her eyes and tone.

"Call us if you need more, all right?" Poison offered, kissing her cheek.

"All right, I will. Oh, before I go! Fire, consider this my  _thank you_  gift," Lustful added with a wink, handing Fire a silver necklace with a heart pendant.

"Uh, thanks?" Fire said, frowning at the gaudy gift.

Lustful laughed at his expression. "Just wait until you're wearing it; you'll understand." She left before either one could reply, stepping between the glass jars nimbly.

Poison took her phone out to call Molten and Blaze so they could help transport the glass jars. Molten and Blaze arrived in a matter of minutes, landing their flying truck on the building's helipad. Using her vines, Poison had all of the glass jars secured in the truck soon enough.

"I'm driving, give me the keys," Fire demanded as they headed towards the truck's cabin.

"It's my truck," Blaze argued.

"It'll be your hunk of metal if you don't give me the keys."

Blaze muttered under his breath, but threw the keys to Fire and climbed into the cabin.

Fire was the better driver of the four of them, taking care not to jostle the jars in the back, and they arrived back at their base of operations without a single jar broken. Hourglass and Speed were waiting for them when they arrived, the seer taking Fire aside as soon as he was out of the cabin.

"Don't wear the pendant until absolutely necessary."

"I wasn't planning on it, Hourglass. Have you seen it? It doesn't exactly match my shoes," Fire replied sarcastically.

Hourglass ignored his sarcasm easily. "Lustful gave you some of her power, Fire. The mist in those jars are nothing compared to the concentrated amount inside of that pendant. The instant you wear it, people will fall in love with you and literally do  _anything_  for you. They'll kill, destroy, even die for you if you ask it of them. It's a dangerous power to wield, and it could ruin everything you and Poison have worked for if you abuse its power."

Fire looked at the necklace with a grimace. He much preferred to threaten or terrify people into submission; making them fall in love with him seemed like cheating somehow.

"Thanks for letting me know, Hourglass. I'll be careful."

She sighed in relief, and then moved on to help Speed and the others unpack the jars. Fire pocketed the pendant, certain that he'd never need it. He followed Hourglass to help finish unpacking the jars in their secure vault. Fire pressed a firm kiss to Poison's mouth, her lips curving into a smile against his.

With Lustful's power to wield whenever they wanted, the world would have no choice but to  _love_  Chaos and beg them for more.

...

The end.


	11. Bolt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is a companion piece for [A world of their own](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2437310/chapters/5398037)

According to all official reports outside of the Lab, Bolt didn't exist. She preferred it that way, and didn't mind that she had to keep out of the public eye, that she was confined to her home, rather than being out in public. Bolt and people didn't mix very well together anyway, and with her power, it was unlikely that would ever change.

Still, Bolt had more family and friends than she'd ever thought possible when she was younger, long before Chaos' reign. She was the fiercest weapon in Chaos' arsenal besides Chaos themselves, and she held her position on the third tier of their hierarchy with pride. Today, however, the unthinkable had happened: Bolt's position had been challenged.

She had, of course, seen Gwen's rise through the ranks on TV herself. Up until now, she'd actually been impressed with the young woman's resolve and control. Now, however, Bolt had to wonder if Gwen wasn't as smart as she thought she was. A technopath against her? It had never happened before, and with Chaos' stipulation for her to remain out of sight, Bolt wondered if it even  _would_  happen. She looked at the yellow rose that accompanied the green challenge card - three petals and a single leaf. Bolt saw that it was already 2:45pm, so she had half an hour to get ready before she needed to meet with Chaos.

Bolt changed her clothes, then grabbed her keys and the challenge card, and headed out the door to go to Chaos' apartment. The elevator arrived in a matter of seconds thanks to a quick burst of power, and she arrived at their penthouse apartment with five minutes to spare. Knocking on the door, Bolt waited patiently for an answer. The door opened a few moments later, and she smiled at Hourglass, signing hello.

"Hello, Bolt. You're early, that's good. Take a seat, Chaos will be out in a moment."

Nodding, Bolt sat on the indicated lounge. Hourglass sat across from her and nodded to the challenge card. "Are you nervous about the challenge?"

Bolt shook her head.

"Do you think Gwen's good enough for third tier?" Hourglass asked curiously.

Considering the question for a moment, Bolt eventually nodded.

"She beat Blaze a few days ago; have you seen him since?"

Bolt nodded.

"That's good. Blaze misses you, you know."

She nodded again and shrugged.

"I'm sure Tempest would love to see you as well; she's nervous about Gwen's fight."

Bolt bit her lip at the mention of her former Hero, back when heroes and sidekicks still existed. She shrugged; she might see Tempest, she might not. She doubted Tempest would want to see her anyway.

Before Hourglass could ask another question, Chaos entered the room. Poison smiled at Bolt, Fire nodded in acknowledgement, and they both sat across from Bolt.

"Hello, Bolt. How are you?" Poison asked.

Bolt shrugged.  _Not bad_.

"That's good. You got Gwen's challenge, I see. Do you feel up to accepting the challenge?" Poison asked.

Bolt thought about it, as she had ever since receiving the green card. Finally, she nodded once, firm and adamant.

"You mustn't kill her, Bolt," Fire added.

Bolt glared at him briefly, and his hand lit up in response to her electrical manipulation.

"See, that's what I mean. You let your emotions get the better of you," Fire said, shaking out the flames that had protected him. "You could be second tier if you controlled your emotions, Bolt."

She gave a nod, and then Bolt posed her own question. She concentrated, encouraging a brief pulse of electricity, the words forming in their minds as electrical signals passed between neurons carefully.  _Will the fight between us be televised?_

Fire and Poison both blinked at the question, then looked to Hourglass.

"Within the Lab, yes. Those outside the Lab will not be able to handle the fact that Bolt is actually alive and well."

Bolt shrugged; she didn't care about them.

"Do you have any more questions?" Poison asked.

Bolt shook her head. Fire drew her attention and passed her an old iPhone charger that had seen better days. Bolt grinned her thanks and bit into the cord eagerly; while the residual energy wasn't  _quite_  what she was used to, it was a nice enough snack.

"I'll take you out for dinner tomorrow after your challenge," Hourglass promised with a smile.

Bolt nodded eagerly.

"Not the Lab's main power plant again?" Fire asked with a grin.

"Not quite. There's an old power plant that's not on the mainframe any more. It still has enough power for a decent-sized meal, Bolt," Hourglass said.

Bolt grinned, and with the main business over for the day, Chaos talked with Bolt about the recent changes in the Lab since the Mad Professor's death and Coach's disappearance. Of course, Bolt knew that the Mad Professor's death had been faked, and Coach had left with the Mad Professor. She wondered where they'd gone, but as she doubted she'd get an answer, Bolt didn't bother wasting energy to ask.

Their reminiscing was cut short when Hourglass informed Chaos of their next appointment, and after hugging the other three briefly, Bolt left to go back home. Hourglass reminded her of her promise for dinner the next night, and Bolt smiled for some time afterwards.

...

Heidi's increase in power didn't happen like most supers - Zach's power was increased due to his girlfriend's betrayal, Ethan's was changed after a kiss, Layla's increased after her mother's death, and Warren's increased once he killed his father. Heidi's power increase didn't happen until after she was already working as Wendy's sidekick.

Even though she was strung up above a vat of toxic waste, Heidi didn't blame Wendy. It wasn't Wendy's fault, Heidi knew that then, and Bolt knew it now. Wendy had challenged another super over a territorial dispute, and that super had thought that capturing Heidi would make Wendy comply. The super didn't realise that Heidi's power was linked with Wendy's; when the weather-controlling woman built lightning bolts in her clouds, Heidi's control over electricity ensured that they would strike in the exact spot required. She fed Wendy's power and as such, Heidi could tell whenever Wendy was creating a storm.

Right now, with electrons and neutrons building in the atmosphere above her, Heidi knew that Wendy was gathering one of the largest storms she'd ever attempted. It was a way of finding her, allowing Heidi to direct the lightning bolt to her location, but as Wendy had no idea where the super had taken her, she was creating a storm to cover several towns and cities at once.

Heidi closed her eyes as the vat of toxic waste bubbled beneath her. She visualised the cloud overhead, the striking of electrons and neutrons in the air to create small bolts of lightning. She needed something bigger than that though, and drew on more molecules in the air. Eventually, Heidi had enough gathered electricity to create a lightning bolt. She waited until she knew Wendy was ready and waiting, and then directed the lightning to her precise location.

Unfortunately for Heidi, the super that had captured her wasn't the kind to insulate his lair properly. The lightning struck the building, reverberated throughout the warehouse, and zapped along the metal rod that kept Heidi dangling above the vat of toxic waste. The lightning fed into Heidi's body, and with her seated on a metal chair and her rubber-soled shoes already fallen into the vat some time ago, there was no escape from the high electrical voltage. It continued to flow through her, head to toe and back again without stopping.

Had Heidi been anyone  _other_  than herself, with her power to control electricity, being hit like this would have proven fatal. Heidi had practised on others - mainly Zach - and while she had more knowledge about the human brain than most people, she still didn't know every little part. She simply knew that she had to redirect the electricity running through her body so that it wouldn't continue to flow through her, and in a moment of lucidity - or perhaps there was nothing but pain - Heidi decided to redirect it to her own brain as a series of electrical pulses. They could combine with the ones already in her body and be used safely, she was sure of it. Well, at least 75% sure; Heidi wasn't completely certain over all of the screaming.

The first few electrical redirections worked, Heidi's body shaking in its confines of the various zip ties and metal chair. She tried to keep control as she redirected more, a little more each time, and Heidi thought she managed it all right. Then, as the zip ties began to melt with the intense heat from the lightning, she slipped. Her focus disappeared in the same instant, and Heidi redirected the remaining electricity straight into her brain. Heidi vaguely thought she was still screaming, though she couldn't hear the noise itself, and as the last of the zip ties melted into useless plastic globs, she slipped off the metal chair completely, falling straight down into the vat of toxic waste.

Wendy arrived just as Heidi fell, her sidekick's mouth open in a soundless scream, though her eyes were screwed shut tightly. Wendy practically decimated the building, the super dead as all oxygen was pulled from his body a second later, and she ran for the vat, hoping that Heidi's outfit would have protected her somewhat. The metal vat creaked ominously as she approached, the wind tearing through the building and ripping into the metal like it was nothing more than a wet paper bag. Wendy created a tornado to suck out the toxic waste, a gentle cirrus cloud lifting out Heidi from the vat gently. When Heidi was free, Wendy dumped the toxic waste back into the vat, and knelt by Heidi's still form, sobbing as rain poured around them. She reached out for Heidi, aware of the electricity that still crackled around her, her suit eaten away by the toxic waste in most places, her bone showing without the suit's protection.

Zach arrived with Ethan, Layla, and Warren. Simon was carrying Honey, and they came to an abrupt stop, Honey gasping for air.

"Use your vines. Now, Layla!" she called, and Layla didn't hesitate, several vines popping out from cracks in the warehouse floor to cover Heidi completely.

They dug into her body, tearing away the last remnants of her suit, and Wendy could do nothing but watch as Heidi continued with her soundless scream. She couldn't watch, but couldn't look away either, and Wendy saw where the vines replaced skin and exposed bones were covered by green.

"It's only temporary, Wendy. You need to let go so we can get Heidi help," Honey said, her hand on Wendy's shoulder.

She hadn't even realised she'd taken hold of Heidi's arm, and as she let go, Wendy saw the lightning strike scars webbing up Heidi's skin, the scars mottled with green. Simon gathered Heidi in his arms and sped away at Honey's instruction. Wendy was vaguely aware of Zach and Ethan leaving via jet pack to follow after them, and then Layla and Warren helped her stand and guided her over to their car with Honey following.

The next time Wendy saw Heidi, the vines had been replaced by liquid metal, silver shining where green had been. Whatever had happened to Heidi - before the toxic waste, during, or even after, Wendy wasn't sure - had taken all of her ability to speak and hear. The hearing aids she'd once worn were now useless, and Heidi was completely mute. Her hands trembled a bit, still crackling with electrical lightning now and then, but she managed to communicate by sign language.

Due to the other super's death, Wendy owned the territory he'd held, but the victory didn't feel very victorious.

...

Heidi knew that Wendy was no longer comfortable with her as her sidekick, but didn't really know why. Not a whole lot had changed, besides the talking, hearing, and her skin. She liked it though, it made her feel like the Terminator, and she briefly considered taking that on as her super name.

The next time Wendy visited her in hospital, Heidi signed to her about their plans for defeating another super in a region close to the one she'd just secured. It would expand their territory even closer to Westville and Maxville itself. Wendy shook her head, interrupting Heidi's plan abruptly.

"You're fired, Heidi. I can't... I can't have you as my sidekick. I can't see you get hurt again. I just... I  _can't_ ," Wendy said, her words ending on a sob, and she ran from the room with tears in her eyes.

Heidi frowned at Wendy's words and sudden departure.  _Wendy was just overly emotional about the things that had happened; she'd come around, surely?_  Heidi hoped that was the case as she settled down to sleep. In the morning, Wendy would come back and they'd talk more about taking over the next region.

Wendy didn't come back the next day, or the next, or the next five days after that.

Heidi looked from Zach to Ethan as they looked between each other, obviously working up the courage to tell her something. Heidi clicked her fingers to get their attention, then waved for them to just get on with it.

"Layla and Warren secured region 2 last night; Wendy's decided to go inactive and become a carer instead," Zach said finally.

Region 2 housed the Maxville Super Penitentiary, and Heidi had no doubts as to why Wendy had gone inactive: Royal Pain.

The words lit something within Heidi and she felt electricity surging through her, or maybe it was anger, perhaps both? She shorted out the machine she was hooked up to, and the one in the next room, and the next, all of the machines in the hospital turning off one by one until the hospital plunged into darkness.

Cautiously, Zach started to glow to provide temporary light until the backup generators kicked in. Heidi was no longer in her bed, and Ethan approached the window with a frown on his face.

"I think Heidi just took out the whole city," he said, darkness enveloping every street as far as he could see.

Zach moved to stand by Ethan, staring out at the dark city. No street lights were on, nor house lights, and even cars had stopped in the street. It was like an EMP had run through the city, wiping everything out completely.

Heidi left the hospital, determined to prove that she was still useful, that Wendy didn't need to go inactive because of her, that she could get the other regions with or without her hero. Darkness followed her as she gathered electricity from every streetlight, building and home, and vehicle that was in the city.

...

Bolt appeared the next day. She proceeded to drain the whole state of its electricity, her eyes glowing and crackling with lightning as she took every region that hadn't yet been secured, and then some.

It caused utter chaos and anarchy. People looted; destroying things and each other for the most basic of necessities; hospitals had to organise police to guard their doors, people desperate for light and electricity; out in the oceans, several submarines sank to the bottom of the ocean with limited air for those trapped inside; planes were diverted to other states, while some fell from the skies entirely.

The next day, electrical surges created fires in homes. Any houses that were too close to others started to burn those as well, until entire streets were in flames. Fire departments tried to get to each of the houses, but without phones to alert them to the emergencies or working firetrucks to get there, it was nearly impossible for firefighters from other states to get to the numerous fires in time.

By the third day, the generators in the hospitals had started to die, and on the roads, people died as well. They were attempting to leave the state, people fighting over bicycles, scooters, and even skateboards as a faster means of transport. Others simply started walking, but with the state line almost three hours away by car alone, not everyone was prepared to walk for two straight days to get help, and most people gave up after the first day, collapsing in the nearest building without a care for the lack of electricity.

On the fourth day, Chaos took back control. It had been a long three days of arguing and fighting between them and the other tiers. Zach was convinced he could get through to his sister where others had failed, but Ethan was terrified that Bolt would kill him without a second glance. Honey couldn't see anything, too many possible futures overwhelming her, and then  _darkness_ - _darkness_ - _darkness_.

Warren put out all of the fires that were still burning; Layla created lines of ripened fruit trees and vines along the highway to ensure everyone would eat; Ethan and Mr. Medulla worked together to create a generator that ran on pedal-power rather than electricity; Zach lent his glow to several thousand torches and Simon distributed them among those that were left in Maxville and the surrounding towns.

When the people were placated to the best of their ability, Poison and Fire went to the electrical power plant where Bolt was draining the state's energy, and working on getting the rest of the country's electricity as well.

Bolt had found that with every watt she gained from the power plant, she needed  _more_  still. By the time Chaos had arrived, she had literally connected herself to the power plant's mainframe, cords and wires sticking out of most of her body, blood trickling in the places where she'd clipped some wires to the parts of her skin that weren't covered by liquid metal.

Bolt greeted Chaos with a mouthful of wires, more held in her hand to try to quell her insatiable quench for more electricity, more energy, more of everything. Electricity crackled over her body as she attacked Chaos, first together and then individually. Their electrical impulses were affected easily by her full-strength power, and before her, Chaos were nothing, they were  _useless_. Bolt had more power than either of them put together, and she knew in that moment that she could reign over the world itself.

Poison and Fire struggled to get away from Bolt to recover, and it took them almost a full hour of fighting to discover that they could use their own powers to block Bolt's. Fire and Poison had been at full strength themselves for years longer than Bolt, and as such, both had complete control over their powers where Bolt's control was sporadic like a flickering light bulb.

A shield of flames appeared before Fire when Bolt's next attack came, and he continued forward without being affected. Inspired by Fire's success, Poison used several large vines to protect against the electrical pulses that Bolt sent at her.

They overcame Bolt shortly thereafter, wrenching her free of the electrical system she was still draining. Poison used a vine to ensure that Bolt wouldn't be able to unleash her full power ever again. Despite knowing that she no longer had a voice, Bolt could have sworn that she heard herself screaming when Poison's vine burrowed into her body.

An hour later, electricity was fully restored to the state, and Bolt was led back to the Lab by Chaos.

...

Despite the restoration of electricity to the state, Bolt was publicly demonised. Too many people had died for her to be forgiven by the public, and the citizens demanded retribution. After dealing with picketers for almost three days straight, Craig offered a solution: by posing as Bolt, he could be 'killed' and then revived when he returned to the Lab. Poison and Fire presented the idea to Bolt, who would then be put under house arrest, not to be seen in public ever again. Remorseful for the things she'd done, Bolt agreed.

Wendy came to see Bolt before her permanent exile, hand-in-hand with a little brunette girl that could only be Royal Pain. The girl introduced herself as Gwen, and then bluntly asked if Bolt was a robot, her brown eyes as curious as her words. She shook her head:  _robots didn't have feelings_.

When Craig was killed on live TV wearing her form, Bolt left the Lab's apartments and headed to her new accommodation, where she'd stay for the rest of her life. Until that curious young girl challenged Bolt's position on the hierarchy.

...

Standing in the arena, Bolt looked out to the crowd. Most of the people within the Lab already knew she was alive - it was difficult to be hidden while basically exiled to the backyard, after all - but no one had seen her fight since her blowout several years ago. The arena seats were packed, those within the Lab walls curious to see what would happen in a fight between Bolt and Gwen, and not content to watching it on their TV screens. (Bolt didn't really blame them; Gwen had accidentally broken the cameras in her first fight.)

Bolt had been practising with her power since her exile, and while her own arena was far smaller than this one, it was enough for her. She just hoped it would be enough to keep her position on the hierarchy.

On the other side of the arena, Gwen was watching and assessing Bolt carefully, looking for weaknesses. She was curious as to whether her power would affect Bolt's liquid metal skin, but as it was a part of her human body and not actually a bionic limb, she doubted her power would do anything. Still, it couldn't hurt to try.

The buzzer sounded a moment later, a timer starting to count down the five minutes they had to best the other. Bolt waited where she was, gathering electricity in her palms until the crackle could even be seen on the large screens on either side of the arena.

Gwen tried to use her power on Bolt, but as she had suspected, nothing happened. Bolt's body, despite being metal in places, wasn't bionic at all. She cursed under her breath (not too loudly; the microphones were surprisingly sensitive, and Aunt Wendy hated it when she swore), and reached into her hoodie to take out several pieces of metal. In a second flat, she was armed with a ray gun.

Bolt sent the first bolt of electricity towards Gwen, hoping that the gun she had would be melted, or at least affected in some way. She had seen the array of different ray guns Gwen could produce, and if it was a freeze ray, then Bolt knew she would be in trouble. If she didn't win first, of course.

Aiming for Gwen again, Bolt sent another bolt of electricity towards her, and another to the direction she hoped Gwen would jump to avoid it. Gwen rolled on the ground, somersaulting and just getting singed by the second bolt instead. She was on her feet in a second, aiming and firing her gun. A blast of air pushed Bolt back a few steps, and the electricity on her hands fizzled out. Gwen had created an air gun strong enough to counteract her electricity, Bolt realised.

Bolt couldn't help but stare for a moment, surprised at Gwen's weapon of choice. A freeze ray would have been faster, but as she'd seen over the last month or so, it was difficult to guarantee a hit on the first shot. The air gun gave a broader scope, it seemed. However, as Bolt stood there staring, she noticed another thing: the air gun took a long time to get working again. She had no idea how it worked, not being a technopath herself, but Gwen still hadn't fired a second shot, and seemed to be waiting for something.

Well, she certainly didn't have that problem, and Bolt gathered enough electricity to send four bolts at Gwen in quick succession. She could have waited a bit longer to create balls of electricity, not unlike Fire's fireballs, but Bolt wanted this to be over sooner rather than later. While she couldn't hear the crowd, she could feel everyone watching her, and Bolt actually missed her seclusion.

A bolt hit Gwen's leg, but it didn't make much impact, the electricity flowing down to the ground harmlessly. Bolt frowned, trying to determine what Gwen's outfit was made out of. A moment later, she realised that she recognised the style of it, and cursed herself for not seeing it sooner. Gwen was wearing Wendy's old outfit; with a few modifications in colour and the cape removed, of course. Wendy's outfit had helped her to conduct electricity, and in doing so, required an extra layer of insulation. Bolt needed to hit Gwen's bare skin in order to win this, which meant hitting either her hands or her head.

Her head was obviously the easier target, but Bolt knew what an electrical surge to the brain could do, and she didn't want to permanently harm Gwen over this. The hands were smaller targets, but the safest option. Unless she forfeited entirely. Bolt mused over this dilemma for a fraction too long, another blast of pure oxygen pushing her back to the edge of the arena.

Well, she needed to practise her precision skills anyway.

Bolt gathered electricity quickly, but took a moment to aim before letting it loose. As that bolt flew through the air, she concentrated on making several balls of electricity, sticking them to the metal parts of her body to keep them ready. So long as she avoided being hit by Gwen's gun, they would stay there for as long as she needed. Bolt threw one of the balls of electricity, Gwen dodging out of the way. A second, third, and fourth ball were thrown, the third coming closest but still only hitting Gwen's foot, the electricity drifting off the rubber shoes harmlessly.

With one hand, Bolt created smaller balls of electricity, and with her other, she began to throw them. Gwen darted around the arena, trying to dodge them. While Bolt's aim was actually quite good, and a few landed on her, most of them hit Gwen's clothes due to her movement. Bolt saw the air gun's light change from red to green and knew that she'd have to start running around herself soon enough. Gwen seemed to notice that her air gun was ready a moment later, and aimed it towards Bolt.

Bolt grabbed her balls and ran. Instead of running away or to either side, she ran directly towards Gwen. Her opponent seemed surprised at the move, but fired the gun anyway. Bolt dodged the oncoming blast of air, only losing a few of her balls that were on her leg. The ones on her right side were still fine, and Bolt continued to run towards Gwen. She threw some of the electricity balls to herd Gwen back to where she wanted, distracting her. The moment she was certain of her shot, Bolt pulled her arm back and threw her final remaining ball of electricity, aiming straight at Gwen's head.

As she'd predicted, Gwen raised her arms to block herself, and the ball hit her hands square on. Unprotected against the electrical current, Gwen fell to the ground, her body spasming slightly as she lost her challenge.

Bolt went over to Gwen, touching her cheek gently and drawing the electricity back out carefully. There was no point in wasting good electricity when she'd already won, after all.

In the arena, the buzzer sounded, the crowd cheered, and the cameras focused on the victor. Blaze and Tempest both left the stands to enter the arena, impatiently allowing the medics through first.

Bolt blinked in surprise at her brother's presence, signing at him that she was fine, that Gwen was fine, and she'd taken the extra electricity out of her. The medic nodded in understanding, but still had to check Gwen's vitals, and signed this to Bolt in response. Tempest stayed back while the medic looked over Gwen, her gaze flicking from her adopted daughter to her former sidekick.

When the medic moved away, clearing Gwen as needing rest but otherwise fine, Bolt stepped forward, tugging Blaze with her. She could have done this with Gwen's electrical signals in her brain, but she was tired after their fight, and didn't want to add any extra stress to either of them.

 _Congratulations, Gwen. You fight well_ , Bolt signed, nodding for Blaze to translate.

To her surprise, Gwen started to sign back before Blaze could say anything.  _Thanks. So do you_.

_You know ASL?_

_Aunt Wendy taught me_ , Gwen admitted.

Bolt blinked in surprise, looking from Tempest to Wendy.

Tempest gave a half-smile and shrugged.  _I wanted her to talk to you when she met you. When you were ready to see us_ , Tempest added.

Bolt smiled, thinking that Honey had been right all along in telling her to visit her former Hero.

 _Can we invite Bolt over for lunch tomorrow?_  Gwen signed, looking between Bolt and Tempest eagerly.

Tempest looked to Bolt, who smiled again and nodded firmly.

 _Great. See you tomorrow_ , Tempest signed, then helped Gwen out of the arena so she could rest and recover.

Poison and Fire were waiting at the arena's exit, Hourglass standing beside them. Bolt was glad that they signed rather than talked; she was tired and couldn't concentrate on reading their lips right now.

 _Well done, Bolt_ , Poison said with a smile.

 _It was a good fight_ , Fire added.

She thanked them both. Blaze promised that he and Molten would visit soon, and that he was proud of her. Hourglass smiled and led Bolt out so she could take her to dinner, as promised.

An hour later, the old power plant was drained of its remaining electricity, and Bolt felt much better. Hourglass knew better than to touch her after she'd consumed so much electricity, and stayed a few metres away as they walked back to the car. When they were back at the Lab, Bolt thanked Hourglass for taking her out for dinner. She wouldn't need another meal like that for at least a month.

Now that it was safe to touch Bolt again, Hourglass hugged her firmly, and then told her to visit when she next had the chance. Bolt agreed with a nod, and when Hourglass had left to return home to Speed, Bolt gratefully collapsed on her bed to sleep.

...

The next day, Bolt went to Tempest and Gwen's apartment building. There were a few children running around outside, and she could see where plaster and paint were obviously used to repair a child-shaped hole in one of the walls.

As she entered the building, Bolt saw a young couple with their child, trying to get the infant to fall asleep or calm down, she wasn't quite sure. By the expression on the child's face, Bolt was suddenly very glad she couldn't hear the child's wailing. The mother was wearing noise-cancelling headphones, and the father looked as though he understood everything his own parents had ever suffered through with his own childhood, so Bolt wondered if the child's super ability was related to noise.

She stepped past them and took the elevator up to the ninth floor, ringing the doorbell for Tempest's apartment. The door was opened almost immediately, Gwen greeting her with cotton balls stuffed in her ears. Once Bolt stepped inside, the door was shut firmly, and Gwen used a burst of power to shove as much technology between the door and them as possible.

 _To block out the noise_ , she explained, then winced as she took the cotton balls out.  _Aunt Wendy is serving up lunch. Want a tour?_

Bolt nodded, suddenly feeling nervous about being inside of Tempest and Gwen's apartment. It was very different to Blaze and Molten's apartment, with various bits of technology sitting on pieces of furniture, a miniature terrarium with its own lightning cloud inside, and most of the colours in blue, silver, and white.

Blaze and Molten's apartment was a mix of black, white, and gold, with a few bright colours thrown in. It shouldn't have worked, but for them it did. Bolt supposed the colours matched their powers and personalities, and the same was true for Tempest and Gwen.

She saw a vase sitting on the dining table with two perfect yellow roses sitting upright, and knew that they were from Poison. Bolt had received a pale pink rose from Poison for her twenty-first birthday, and even now, four years later, it still looked just as perfect as it had then.

Gwen showed her the lounge room, dining room, bathroom, kitchen (Tempest waved a greeting from the stove), and her workroom. Bolt smiled at the amount of technology the room housed, and was tempted to turn things on just to see what would happen. Gwen tugged her sleeve to get her attention, then signed quickly and with a broad grin.

 _Want to see how it all works?_  she asked.

Bolt nodded and smiled in response.

After a few minutes, Gwen stopped demonstrating a modified GameBoy where the screen showed 3D images of whatever game was playing (a small Mario figurine jumped nimbly towards the end goal, coins falling from actual bricks, and little mushrooms moving towards Mario and the abyss behind him).

 _Aunt Wendy called. Ready for lunch?_  Gwen asked, setting the GameBoy aside.

Bolt nodded and followed Gwen back out to the dining room. Tempest was already seated and waiting, but smiled at both of them and indicated for them to sit down.

 _Did you have fun?_  Tempest asked Bolt.

She grinned and nodded.  _Gwen showed me her workroom_.

 _The junk room, you mean?_  Tempest replied, grinning over at Gwen, who had her mouth and hands full and couldn't respond.  _Well, if you really enjoyed that, you have Gwen as a friend for life_.

Across the table, Gwen grinned at her. Bolt grinned back, thinking that Tempest was right, and that Gwen had a friend for life now, too.

...

The end.


End file.
